


Walk the Line

by Huff_Puff



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Bill Cipher Being Bill Cipher, Dark Dipper Pines, Dipper Pines-centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Evil Bill Cipher, Gen, Good Sister Mabel Pines, Magic, Magic Dipper Pines, Manipulative Bill Cipher, Mentor Bill, Mild Gore, Mild Language, Not Beta Read, Not Happy, Not Really Character Death, POV Dipper Pines, POV Third Person, Post Episode: s02e11 Not What He Seems, Protective Dipper Pines, Student Dipper, Supportive Mabel Pines, Teenage Dipper Pines, Teenage Mabel Pines, angsty dipper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-04-26 01:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 73,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4984324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huff_Puff/pseuds/Huff_Puff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hand that promised power. A mistake once made. A future forever changed.<br/>Dipper had always felt like the black sheep in the Pine's family - had always felt like they would get along just fine without him - even Mabel, with enough time.<br/>Closing his eyes had never felt like such a reprieve from all of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. There Will Be Bad Days

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, this is my first story and I thought I'd try my hand at Gravity Falls! The plot of this show is so crazy and I don't know how they get to air half of the stuff they do - it's fantastic. This won't be BillDip, because frankly I am not a romance writer, but I guess you can insinuate whatever you want to.
> 
> Anyway, this story is unbeta'd so sorry for any mistakes if there are any. I do speak British English, but I try to write in American English because the story is set in America and most of the readers on this site are American. Sorry if some words have an extra 'U' or an 'S' instead of a 'Z'.
> 
> I don't own Gravity Falls.
> 
> EDIT: For reference; Stanford is the Author. Stanley is Fez Stan. I originally wrote this story the other way around, before AToTS, so there may be some mistakes, as I have altered each chapter since then. I apologize in advance if there are any! It follows the plot after NWHS.
> 
> Also. I'm pretty sure it's obvious I don't own Gravity Falls.

_Grunkle Stan. I trust you._

It still hurt.

She had trusted that traitor over her own brother. It hurt.  _God, did it hurt._ This wasn't like the puppet show, where she'd dismissed his need for her help over the laptop.

This...this was utter betrayal.

This was her completely ignoring the facts. This was her completely ignoring the fact that all the signs had pointed to Stan being the bad guy.

This. Sucked. So.  _Hard._

He didn't even care that he was wrong - okay, yeah, he sort of did - but that was besides the point. Why was she so freaking perfect? Why did she have to be  _right_  all the time? Why couldn't he have the spotlight for once?

Dipper stared up at the ceiling, throwing a ball at the roof and catching it when it came back down, reviewing the events of the previous evening.

He couldn't believe it when his great uncle walked out of the portal, six fingers and all. The author of the journals - the man he'd been trying to find all summer. Stanford was a duplicate of his brother Stanley, at least in looks (besides the six fingers thing). Personality wise they were complete opposites.

And worst of all he'd taken the 3rd Journal.

His journal.

He'd taken  _his_ journal.

_Okay, so, maybe it wasn't my journal, per say, but I had it for the whole summer! Finders keepers losers weepers, right?_

He'd said 'a kid your age shouldn't have this', and 'Stanley, what the hell were you thinking letting him keep that?'. His hands curled into fists just thinking about it. He was so  _mad._ What did he have if he didn't have that book? Nothing.

Without it,  _he_  was nothing.

A gentle knock at the door pulled him out of his musings, and he blinked rapidly to regather his thoughts.

"Dipper its lunch time. Are you coming with us?" Mabel called from the other side. Dipper paused as he made to throw the ball again. His gaze flickered to the lock on the door.

Still bolted. Good.

He turned on his side and ignored her.

"Dipper...don't be a doodie head!" She tried again after a few minutes. "Let's talk about this!"

He threw the ball at the wall across from him, harder this time. It smashed into a painting, the glass protecting it shattering onto the ground. How many times had she tried to persuade him out of his bedroom? He couldn't remember, but she'd been trying since last night when she had come up to tell him they were ordering pizza for dinner, and wanted to know what type he wanted and he hadn't answered.

So maybe the thirtieth or so?

They'd hidden out in a motel outside of Gravity Falls in a town called Chester's Peak. They'd had to get away after the portal had puked out their great uncle. How there were suddenly two Stan Pines wouldn't have been an easy thing to explain, after all. So now they were staying in the nice, little,  _normal_  town of Chester's Peak.

And Dipper hated it.

"Come  _on,_  Dipper! Stop being a jerk! Great Uncle Ford is back. You should at least talk to him."

Dipper squeezed his eyes his shut at his Great Uncle's name. It wasn't that he hated him - he'd barely said two words to the guy. It was just that having him around made him feel so...useless.

If he define everyone down into one quality, he...he had nothing special to offer. Mabel had the heart - the wackiness and creativity. An innate goodness and forgiving nature that he just didn't have.  _Couldn't have._  Grunkle Stan had the brawn, and could fight off anyone and anything that he wanted too. All  _he_  had was noodle arms and  _luck._

And Stanford had knowledge. Brains. Everything that he himself had, times like, one thousand. He knew more about the supernatural. He knew more about science. He knew more about _everything._

And...that left him with...?

With what?

Dipper rubbed his forehead under his hair, sitting up and pulling his hat on. He had to get over this feeling. None of them had done anything wrong. If they'd listened to him, Grunkle Stan wouldn't have gotten his brother back.

He couldn't image what it would be like to lose Mabel.

Standing, he walked over to the door and unlock it. Dipper pushed open the door.

"Dipper..." Mabel said, looking Dipper up and down. She looked like she didn't know what to say, her mouth opening and closing. He didn't think he looked too bad, considering he'd slept in his clothes.

"I'm a mess. I know. Let's just...eat, and I'll clean up later okay?" He said.

Mabel stared at him, then smiled that bright, brace filled smile of hers. "Awkward sibling hug?" She asked, voice a little timid.

"Awkward sibling hug," he said, leaning forward to hug her, and she hugged him back.

"Pat, pat," they said together, patting each other's backs and Mabel laughed as they pulled away. Dipper just smiled a little.

"Come on, Dipping Sauce," she cheered, squeezing out of the little hallway that was in their motel room. There was three rooms in the mini hall - one for Grunkle Stan, one for Great Uncle Ford, and one for Dipper and Mabel - plus a bathroom and toilet. All the rooms were tiny. Judging by the bright pink blanket on the couch, Mabel had slept their last night. He felt guilty for kicking her out of their shared room, but he had hadn't been in a good place. He didn't want to have an argument.

He followed Mabel into the kitchen slash sitting room. Grunkle Stan was going over the journals with Great Uncle Ford at the sitting room table, the two speaking quickly to each other. He felt a twinge of possessiveness when he saw they were going through his journal. His notes, to be exact - the ones he'd slowly been scribbling into the blank pages.

The pair glanced up at Dipper as he entered the room. Grunkle Stan cleared his throat. "Dipper." He said, his brother just watching Dipper. Dipper said nothing as he sat down, glancing at the empty takeout boxes on the table. Mabel dropped a box of it into his lap. "Noodles." She said. "Your favorite kind."

"Thank you." He said, opening the box and grabbing the chopsticks she handed him. He honestly wasn't that hungry, but he knew he had to eat.

Stanford wouldn't stop staring at him, and Dipper was beginning to feel unnerved. "Would you stop that? It's creeping me out." He said.

He looked away for just a few moments. "Boy. Dipper, I mean." He said.

"What?" Dipper said, eyes narrowing slightly as he gripped the chopsticks tight in one hand, anticipating what he might say..

His great uncle nodded a little, as if Dipper's defensive response had proven something for him. "You're smart, kid. Just be careful not to get yourself into any more trouble, okay?"

Dipper's brows furrowed slightly. What did he mean by  _that?_  Did he think he went looking for trouble or something? "I don't  _try_ to get myself killed, if that's what you mean." He said. "Dipper..." Mabel warned after sharing a glance with their Grunkle.

Again, Stanford was silent, just watching Dipper, who promptly looked at his noodle box and started to eat. They really were satisfying to his grieving stomach, and he relished the taste.

He couldn't help but wonder what Stanford was thinking. The man was an enigma; he just didn't understand him. When Stanford had come out of that portal...he'd thought maybe things would change - and they had, but...not in the way he had thought they would.

He set the box down, looking at the half eaten noodles. Suddenly, he wasn't so hungry anymore.

* * *

Dipper's eyes flashed open when he heard footsteps in the room that night. The squeak of the floorboard had startled him into consciousness. He hadn't been sleeping exactly - just drifting in and out. Letting his subconscious take the reins for once. He spotted the bright pink sweater in the darkness, like a fork among knives. Mabel. He closed his eyes, keeping them open just enough for it to look like he was asleep but to still be able to see her. She crouched in front of him, looking him in the eyes.

"Dippeeeeer." She whispered loudly. He continued to pretend to sleep, letting his chest rise and fall as if he was, and keeping his muscles relaxed. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. His brows twitched ever so slightly, but he stopped them from furrowing. Why  _was_  he pretending to sleep? Had things gotten so strained between them that he would rather avoid her than have to talk?

No matter how hurt he felt, he didn't want that. So he cleared his throat, opening his eyes up again.

"Mabel." He said.

He could make out her face breaking out into a grin. She picked up Waddles, dumping him onto the big double bed. "Stop hogging all the room, dork." She said, forcing him to roll over so she could climb in next to Waddles, pulling the pig close. "Oink oink." She said to the pig.

Dipper looked at her from the corner of his eyes, quiet.

"What was that, Waddles?" She gasped, playing with the pigs mouth. "You want to tell Dipper something?"

What the heck was she playing at?

"Oink oink." The 'pig' said.

"Waddles! Of course Dipper knows I'm sorry for ignoring him! We awkward hugged and everything!" Mabel paused to look at Dipper as he turned his head to look at the ceiling. "But that doesn't mean I'm sorry for getting Great Uncle Ford back."

"Okay, Mabel, I get it." Dipper said. "I know that I was wrong. Don't rub it in my face."

"I'm  _not_  rubbing it in your face." She said, tone a little more serious. "I'm just saying that...if I  _had_ listened to you, Grunkle wouldn't have gotten his brother back. I trust Grunkle Stan. He's a total conman, and he might have been lying to us all summer, but he's not..." She breathed out a sigh. "But he isn't a bad guy."

Dipper nodded. "I know, Mabel." He agreed. "But that doesn't mean it didn't hurt." He too, breathed a sigh. "I forgive you. You know I do. But it still  _hurt_. You've gotta understand that. You're my twin and I...I just thought you had my back is all."

"I  _do_ , Dipper!"

"You know what I mean, Mabel. All the facts said Grunkle Stan was the bad guy. All the facts said we were going to die. I value my life."

Mabel was silent, just looking at him.

"But you were right, and Grunkle Stan...he looks so happy now. And so do you. I shouldn't be such a mope about it. Just because I was wrong."  _Again. As usual._

"Jeez, Dipper, don't be so down!" Mabel's voice lightened up, but Dipper could feel that the words coming out were forced as she punched his arm. "Just go to sleep, okay? Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford said we'd all go to the grocery shop and that we'd get to pick anything we want!"

"You'll be picking Gummy Koalas no doubt?" He said.

"And you'll be picking Pitt Cola." She replied.

Dipper fought the small smile that appeared on his face. "Of course. What else?" He said. Mabel chuckled, pulling Waddles closer to her. The pig oinked.

"Waddles says goodnight." Mabel said.

"Goodnight, Waddles."

"Waddles wants a kiss."

"Ew, gross, Mabel."

Mabel beamed cheekily. "Night bro-bro."

"Goodnight."

* * *

Dipper rubbed his eyes as he stared at himself in the mirror. Mabel was brushing her teeth so hard she looked like she'd caught rabies. He pulled at his bottom lid. Had he always had bags that big beneath them? He felt as if he hadn't gotten a second of sleep. His muscles ached, and he felt lethargic. What the heck had he been dreaming about to ache this much?

"Hey, Mabel?"

She made a noise around the toothbrush.

"I wasn't like, kicking your or something in my sleep, was I?"

She looked as if she was about to swallow the toothpaste (gross), but spat it into the basin instead. "No. I didn't feel you hitting me or anything anyway, if you did."

"Hm." He said, looking at her, then back at the mirror. She smacked him hard on the back, turning the water on to wash out the toothpaste. "Don't be a worry wart, bro-bro." She tutted.

Mabel washed out the sink, watching the water spinning in the bowl. "Dipper. I never asked you last night, but what  _was_  that between you and Great Uncle Ford last night?"

Dipper blew out a breath. "I don't know...I guess he just doesn't like me or something."

Mabel frowned a little, watching him for a moment. He could see her pushing the thought to the back of her mind, perking up instantly. He always wished he was like her in that retrospect. She had this uncanny ability to push her more troubling thoughts to the back of her mind, whereas he was constantly constantly  _constantly_  thinking about what could go wrong, and what to do next. He glanced at her as she headed for the bathroom door. "Hurry up! I wanna go get my Gummy Koala's!" She demanded brightly, shutting the door behind her. Dipper turned to grab his toothbrush and the toothpaste, squeezing the tube until the creamy white was on the brush. He placed the brush into his mouth, brushing more gently than Mabel had been. It was a good question. Why  _did_ Great Uncle Ford say those things to him last night? Had he done something that got to him?

A spark flashed in the back of his mind, and he straightened where he stood, tooth brush hanging from his mouth.

Or maybe...maybe it was something he'd  _written._

He gripped the edge of the basin, gnawing on his toothbrush with his teeth as he thought. That would make sense. He often wrote in the journal when he felt paranoid. What if Great Uncle Ford had picked up on something Grunkle Stan missed? But surely, he hadn't written anything  _that_  greatly disturbing. Not enough to gain his mistrust? Right?

He rubbed his head, fingers brushing his still damp hair from the shower he'd taken this morning (he  _had_  really needed it. Not only did he feel refreshed, but his mind felt a little less clouded). He'd have to try get a hold of the journal -  _his_  journal - and take a look at what he'd written. Truthfully, he couldn't remember half of stuff he'd put in there.

Dipper pulled the toothbrush from his mouth, spitting the paste into the sink and washing it down the drain. He put the brush back in the holder, throwing the ball up and down in his left hand as he adjusted his hat with his right.

"Time to face the day."


	2. The Devil Wears A Top Hat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 here and ready to go. Send me a message to tell me what you think - and about any mistakes I've made and I'll correct them!
> 
> I don't own Gravity Falls!

_'Time to face the day'_ , he had said. ' _I'm fine, I can totally function normally with no sleep,_ ' he had thought.

He had  _not_  been prepared for manual labor.

"Uuuugh." He groaned as he lugged most of the grocery bags back into the motel room, dumping them on the floor in the kitchen. Stairs would forever be his greatest enemy.

Mabel dropped the two she was carrying on the thin strip of counter top when she came into the room after him, and then went and flopped down on the couch.

"Put those away for us, will ya, Dipper." Grunkle Stan said, putting the bags he carried down. Great Uncle Ford dropped his next to Grunkle Stan's with a nod of thanks before he and his twin disappeared into his bedroom. Dipper caught "Journal...been writing..." before the door shut. He stared down the hallway after them, then snapped his gaze in Mabel's direction. "Oi. Help me." He said. Mabel shushed him, staring intently at the television. He hadn't realized she had turned it on. "It's Sev'ral Timez." She jumped up. "I must obsess!" She glued herself to the television, whispering something about still loving them no matter what, and that they were 'still her precious'.

Hm. He hadn't realized she'd ever seen ' _Lord of the Rings_.'

Shaking his head, Dipper turned back to the groceries and started putting them away in their places. The Pitt Cola in the refrigerator, the potato chips, crackers and other bits and pieces in the little cupboards, and the Gummy Koalas he threw at Mabel.

Grabbing himself a cola, he headed back to his bedroom, pausing outside Stanford's door. He swayed where he stood for a moment, looking towards his room, before leaning down and pressing her ear to the door.

"...kids done some stupid things. But he isn't a bad kid. You're reading too much into it." Grunkle said. Dipper frowned, brows furrowing. Were they talking about him? Why were they talking about him?! "Stanford, he's paranoid for sure. He's as much a paranoid freak as I am a conman, but he isn't..." Dipper strained to hear his Grunkle, but he'd dropped his voice too low to be heard.

_Damn it._

He headed back to his and Mabel's room in the motel, but stopped and looked at the doorknob as he grabbed onto it. One breath. Two. His hand tightened around it. He felt like the elephant in the room, more than ever. It seemed like only Mabel was treating him like someone with a disease. But he guessed that was just his sister. She wanted to believe the best in everyone. Three breaths. Four. He pushed into the room and slammed the door shut behind him, bolting it.

Releasing a long sigh, he flopped face down onto the bed. Everything was  _wrong_. He felt so left out. Out of place in the Pine's family. It wasn't that he was paranoid. It was just...it was everything. He felt like he was walking on eggshells around everyone. His mind drifted back to the grocery shopping. Drifted. That's what he'd done. While they'd talked amicably, he'd drifted behind them, a ghost. Mabel had spoken to him of course, but Mabel was Mabel. He laced his fingers together behind his head. Since when had he actually  _felt_  like this? Like the outcast? Had it always been this way, and he'd only just started noticing now? He felt like he was bouncing off the walls - trying to find a conclusion for what was at best an intangible question.

He turned over and snatched the ball up from where he'd left it on the ground in the broken glass and threw it at the roof. He supposed it was pure luck that Mabel hadn't noticed the glass when she'd gotten up in the morning, or she would have never left him alone. The thud of the ball resounding against the ceiling slowly calmed him down. It was constant. That thud didn't change sounds. That thud didn't let him down. That thud didn't  _betray_  him.  _That thud-_

"Ugh," Dipper grunted as the ball hit him square in the face. He held his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as the ball bounced off of the bed and rolled across the floor. He could feel tears of pain simmering in his eyes but he fought them off. "Stupid piece of..." He grumbled under his breath as he sat up, opening his eyes.

His mouth promptly dropped open, panic seizing his gut.

The room. Holy heck, the  _room._  He didn't realize he was inching off the bed until he fell off of it a second later. The black and white bed. Onto the black and white floor. Next to the black bouncing ball.

_Oh no._

"Pine Tree!" Bill said in a falsely cheerful voice, appearing out of nothing in a flash of bright light that made Dipper cover his eyes. He floated in the air casually, as if seeing him was a normal occurrence. Bill twirled his cane lazily around, his one eye staring down at the human below his floating form with a wicked sort of glee.

Dipper swallowed his fear into anger as he picked himself up, scowling. "What do you want, Bill? How are you here?" He demanded as Bill floated around the room.

"I just want a little conversation." Bill said, dismissing his other question.

"Why?"

Bill chuckled. "What, I can't talk to you, just for the sake of it?"

"No. Get out of my mind."

Bill floated forward, resting an arm on Dipper's shoulder. "You're right, Pine Tree. I  _do_  want something from you." Dipper cringed away from him. He needed to wake up. He pinched his arm, wincing at the pain.

Bill tutted. "Pine Tree. Let's not beat around the bush. I've gotta proposition for you; so how about another deal, eh?" He asked, voice as lazy as the twirl of his cane.

"Like I'd make that mistake again." Dipper said immediately, practically hissing the words between his teeth. Why was Bill even  _offering_  it? Dipper had no reason to accept his help - besides, Bill wasn't to be trusted. Great Uncle Ford wasn't wrong about that.

Bill looked unimpressed. "Oh come on, you haven't even heard what it's  _for_  yet," he complained.

"I don't  _need_  to. I'm not an idiot." Dipper said sharply. Bill was suddenly right in his face, his eye huge in his...face? (In his triangle?) Dipper backed away slowly and warily until his back hit the bed.

"No, you're not. That's why I want  _you_ , Pine Tree. Because you're smart. Because you've got just the right amount of brain- for a meatbag."

"Want me?'" He repeated. What on earth was he talking about?

_Wake up, wake up. Wake. Up!_

Bill seemed to grow in size. "Yes,  _Dipper Pines._  Why?" Bill paused for dramatic effect.  _What a melodramatic freak._ "To teach you magic of course!"  _He's freaking insane. He isn't making sense._  "Real magic. Not the magic from that little journal of yours."  _Definitely insane._ He circled above Dipper, akin to a shark. Sharp, angular teeth appeared in his triangular body, furthering the imagery before disappearing. Dipper shrunk back against the bed. Bill continued to grow. Bigger and bigger he got until Dipper could barely swallow his fear. "Kid, I could teach you the likes that you could never imagine!"

"Like...like what?" Dipper asked, voice cracking.

Someone wake me up.  _Please_.

"How to make fire, for starters!" His hands glowed blue as he cackled. Dipper winced at the brightness of the flame. "How to possess people!" Bill shot forward through Dipper's body, and Dipper felt his own hand connect with his face. He winced from the pain as Bill appeared in front of him, back to his usual size and sniggering. Dipper rubbed his burning cheek slowly, not taking his eyes off of Bill. The demon hummed slowly, tapping his cane on Dipper's shoulder. "I could teach you how to make your family proud of you, if that's what you want, kid. You could be part of a higher calling, Pine Tree - you just gotta accept it!"

_Get out of my head._

Dipper stared at Bill. He was trying to trick him. This was a dirty trick. As far as he could tell, Bill could gain nothing from this.  _So why...?_

"I'm - I'm already wanted by them...and...and I won't give you my body again, if that's what you're wanting!" Dipper said tightly, indignantly.

"Oh no no  _no._  Your meatbag looks like it might drop from exhaustion any moment now. I don't want a repeat of that pathetic little puppet show, now, do I?"

"My sister's show wasn't pathetic." Dipper defended.

Bill looked bored of the direction the conversation had taken. "Come on, kid. I'm giving you the deal of a lifetime. No catch."

"There's  _always_  a catch. Especially with you."

Dipper couldn't think of anything he could give Bill besides his body. Not knowing was a good enough reason to deny his offer.

"I'd never agree to make a deal with you. Not ever." He said vehemently.

Bill's one eye glinted. "Not to worry." He grabbed his hat, tipping it to Dipper, who yelled as he was yanked up, fell onto his bed, and then slammed back into the headboard of his bed with a grunt. "We'll talk again real soon,  _Pine Tree."_

And then he was gone, just like that.

Dipper stared at the place Bill had been as color began seeping back into the room.

What...what  _was_  that?

What did he  _want?_

He rubbed his eyes, blinking around him as he stood up swiftly, then wobbled as he regained his balance. He had to tell Mabel and Grunkle Stan and, and-

He ran to the door, unlocking it and opening it, ready to call out to them, but jolted to a stop when he heard laughter.. He could see Mabel hauling in what looked like a mountain of poker chips, a grin on her face, and promptly decided to close the door again before she noticed him about to step out into the hallway. He cast his eyes downwards, jaw working. Right. _Okay._

Dipper straightened up, breathing in, then out. They didn't need to deal with his issues. They had enough of their own. Besides...He could deal with this all by himself.

He didn't need  _anybody's_  help.

The only thing he needed was himself, his thoughts, and enough Pitt Cola to keep him awake for the rest of the week.

_Thank god we just went shopping._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was that? Hopefully I'll be making much longer (and better) chapters soon.


	3. Travel Buddies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes Chapter 3! Please enjoy!
> 
> I don't own Gravity Falls!

Dipper threw a crushed can of cola to the floor, next to the pile of others. It had been two days since Bill had come to him in his mind, and it had been two days since he'd slept. He'd been avoiding Mabel, Grunkle Stan, and Great Uncle Ford for the last day and a half. He didn't want them to worry about him, but it seems liked that wasn't going to work. Mabel came along every hour or so and knocked on the door for about ten minutes, trying to coax him out. He'd been sneaking out at night to grab food and go to the bathroom. He was starting to get used to holding his bladder until night time came, and considering how much cola he was drinking, it was a feat and a half. He'd decided to wait to shower until a day when his family left to get more groceries.

He snatched up another cola from the bedside table, pulling the tab and sipping it slowly as he pulled up a corner of the mattress to grab the little notebook and pen underneath. He'd forgotten he'd packed the notebook away in his bag when they'd left Gravity Falls, but when he found it while he had been searching for clean clothes yesterday morning he'd been pleased. He'd stolen the pen off of the kitchen counter last night, and already, just a day and a half later, the journal had become his best friend. It was one of the few things that let him think rationally. Putting his feelings down on paper just made everything so much easier to handle. It made Mabel and her worrying easier to handle. It made the encounter with Bill easier to handle. It made Stanley and Stanford less of a conundrum.

Most of all, it helped him stop stressing out. It listened to his theories and his fears, without telling him he was stupid, or trying to convince him to doing something differently.

God. An inanimate object was his best friend. He must have lost it.

Dipper set the can down on the side table, rubbing his eyes with one hand and pulling the pen from the spiral binding of the book.

He poised his pen to write, but stopped, staring at the previous entry.

_GREAT UNCLE FORD WAS RIGHT ABOUT ONE THING BILL ISN'T TO BE TRUSTED, NOT EVER. I CAN'T EVEN TRUST MY DREAMS ANYMORE, HOW CAN I EVER TRUST ANYONE ELSE?_

The entry went on, but it was mostly just rambles about needing to pee, and he really didn't feel like reading about his bladder issues.

Dipper bit his lip. He was as mad as Stanford. The very thought made him let out a breathy laugh. Maybe they were right to mistrust him-

The pen snapped in his hand, and he stared down at the ink running across his hand in dawning horror.

 _That was it_. They didn't trust him. It wasn't just concern. It was  _distrust_. Did Mabel feel the same way? Was she wary of him, too? What if she was?

Oh god, why hadn't he seen it  _before_?

"Stupid!" He hissed to himself angrily, hitting himself in the head with his book.

He guess he'd thought about it before - that they didn't trust him, but he'd pushed it to the back of his mind. For the first time since he'd locked himself in the room, he wondered if he was just strengthening that feeling they had by hiding away.

And then he thought of when this had all started, when he'd started to notice these things.

When Great Uncle Ford came back.

Yes, admittedly, he'd kinda screwed himself over by telling Mabel to push the button and shut down the machine. But there hadn't been  _time_. All the evidence had pointed to Grunkle Stan being some crazy wacko bent on starting the apocalypse. He let out a long breath, throwing the pen away and grabbing a dirty shirt to wipe the ink off his hand. Was it too late to go out and apologize for his behaviour? Maybe he should-

"Dipper." Mabel called out from the other side of the door, knocking ferociously on the wood like her life depended on it. He tensed up at the tone of her voice. It was different from the annoyed, worried tone she usually used when trying to coax him from the bedroom. This time, he could hear the trembling in her voice, like she was trying not to get too upset.

He slid off of the bed, walking to the door. He rest his hand against the door but didn't say anything. He heard her hand rest against the door with a small thud.

"Dipper...Great Uncle Ford and Grunkle Stan want to send us home." She said in her shaky voice. She was  _really_ broken up about this.

Dipper stared at the door, his eyes wide.

What?

He unlocked the door not even a moment later and she snuck in, closing the door behind her. She barely registered the mess of cans and clothes, before launching herself into her brothers arms and whining into his shoulder, "I don't wanna go home!"

He rubbed her back awkwardly. "It's...it's okay Mabel." Despite her fretting, he had relaxed. She trusted him. And...maybe going back to Piedmont wasn't such a bad thing? The further away from Bill he was, the better.

It wasn't that he wanted to leave Gravity Falls for the rest of the summer - he loved the little Oregon town. It had been so much more than he had thought he would ever experience in such an out of the way place. He'd never regret the time he spent there.

But...he understood where they were coming from. It wasn't safe for them anymore. One of them could get seriously hurt - or worse.

If only things had worked out better than this.

"I don't even get to say goodbye to my Candy and Grenda, Dipper." She said into his shoulder.

Dipper couldn't really relate that much. He knew he'd miss Wendy for sure - he'd moved past his crush of course, but she was still his friend, and it made him sad thinking about leaving without getting to say goodbye. It made him wonder what they were all thinking right now; if they were wondering where the Pines family had gone.

"I mean...maybe...maybe once this mess is sorted out...there might be chance we can come back?" Dipper said slowly.

"You really think so?" She seemed to perk up a little at that.

"Yeah, of course Mabel. Why would I lie to you?"

A smile replaced the frown marring her face as she straightened up a little. "You wouldn't. You're the best little bro-bro  _ever._ "

"Don't ruin the moment, Mabel."

* * *

True to Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford's word, they boarded a bus from Chester's Peak, Oregon, back to Piedmont, California the next day. Grunkle Stan had said that they'd sort out this mess and they'd see them in Gravity Falls again soon. Under the harsh exterior of his Grunkle's face, Dipper saw that like Mabel and himself, Stan didn't want them to go. By soon, Dipper assumed he meant in a summer sometime in the next year or so. Mabel hugged and held onto Grunkle Stan as tightly as she could and for as long as she could before he pried her from her arms. She hugged their Great Uncle just as tightly, and although Dipper could tell she wanted to cry, she didn't. She was strong like that. Unlike him, her heart was too big, and she felt too much - not that he didn't feel or anything. But it was evident to whoever they met who was the biggest wacko. He knew that if it were him in her place, feeling like she was being forcefully pulled away from this new life she'd made, he'd break under the pressure. But Mabel pulled on a strong look, smiled, and told them she would see them next year - that she'd make sure of it.

Dipper had awkwardly shaken Grunkle Stan's and Great Uncle Ford's hands, looking at the six fingers on Stanford's hand because he'd never actually gotten the chance to stare at them before. It was weird, in an interesting sort of way, but he never said anything. When he turned to walk away, he swore Stanford said something to him, but when he turned around his great uncle was looking in the other direction, so he turned back away and boarded the bus. Mabel trailed behind him with Waddles in her arms. Dipper thought she was lucky to have gotten away with bringing the pig on the bus. He guessed maybe the bus driver had taken a look at her crumpled face and decided she'd already had a rough enough day.

Dipper walked to the very back of the bus, taking a seat. He put his bag next to him as Mabel sat beside of him and got onto her knees to look out the window, palms against the glass, Dipper rubbed Waddles head where he'd sat on the seat. The pig oinked.

"Good pig," he murmured as he turned his head to look out the window. He could just make out Grunkle Stan's fez but couldn't see his face. Mabel was waving frantically at them as the bus pulled away.

Dipper swallowed the lump in his throat, lifting his hand in a small wave before turning back to stare at the front of the bus. On one hand, it was sad to be returning home. He'd gotten so much more than he'd bargained for when their parents sent them off to Gravity Falls. He'd assumed it would just be a summer of working for his Grunkle in his tourist trap of a business in the sweltering Oregon heat.

But it had been so much more than that.

Finding the journal had been a life changer. Suddenly he had a mystery - he had something to solve, something to use his brain for. The things he and his sister had done were unbelievable. No one would ever believe them - and he was totally okay with that. Gravity Falls felt like his and Mabel's place, and he didn't want to share that with anyone. He didn't even want his parents to know.

On the other hand he was glad to be leaving. It didn't even really have anything to do with the tension that had developed between him and his relatives. That was a thing that surely would pass over time.

It was a  _danger_  thing.

It felt like he and his sister were constantly running from something, or trying to kill something, or trying to get the upper hand in some bizarre situation in the hope that  _they_  weren't going to be killed. It was too much for grown adults, let alone a pair of twelve-year-olds.

And not to mention Bill. Bill Cipher was most definitely the worst thing that they had seen come out of Gravity Falls. The dream demon was manipulative, evil, and just plain chaotic. He hadn't seen him again since their last altercation, but that probably had to do more with him not sleeping than anything else. Last night in particular had been hard for him, because Mabel and Waddles had been with him. Thankfully, Mabel hadn't said anything about his haggard appearance. He wondered if she'd been too upset to notice.

While she'd slept, he'd drunk another two cans of Pitt Cola (his last two), gone toilet, and had the quickest shower he could to freshen himself up for his parents. When he'd looked at himself in the mirror before they'd gone to the bus station, he'd realized just how terrible he looked. Hopefully his parents would put it up to staying up way past his bedtime rather than because he was scared to go to sleep. He could fake a smile to them if he really had too.

"...per?" Mabel was saying quietly, jabbing him in the arm, having returned to her seat. He glanced at her, blinking.

"Sorry? Did you say something?" He asked.

"I just wanted to know that I  _know_  you haven't been sleeping. What's up?"

"I guess I'm just stressed out, Mabel," he said, shrugging as he scratched behind Waddles' ear. He should have known he couldn't hide it from her. "I mean, with everything that went on with Grunkle Stan and..."

"Yeah." She said, nodding with understanding. She smiled weakly. "It was crazy, huh?"

He nodded. He knew she was just talking so she didn't have to think about leaving Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford, so he let her ramble on, her mood changing as she began to talk about the latest celebrity she was obsessing over. Tuning her out, he rest his head against the window of the buzz. The side of his head felt funny from the vibrations of the bus, but even so, listening to her ramblings made him sleepy. He fought against the feeling, but before he knew it his eyes were closing drearily.

Not even a moment later, a voice in his ear startled his eyes open.

" _Piiiine Treeee_. Wake uuuup." Dippers brows twitched. He recognised that voice, and it didn't bode well with him at all.

Bill floating above him was the last thing he wanted to see. Everything else was drained of color. He turned his head slightly, but the bus was empty of all other passengers - in fact, it looked like the bus was driving itself along the road.

Damn it.  _Damn it damn it damn it._

"How are you here?" He felt like a broken record - hadn't he already asked that before?

Bill was seating himself on top of one of the bus seats in front of Dipper, or, well, floating above the bus seat. He ignored Dipper's question. Again. "Pine Tree, you never gave me an answer."

"Yes I did. I said no."

"Not the answer I wanted to hear."

"And it hasn't changed. No. I said no, and I mean no." His tone was stubborn, but Bill was having none of it. He leaned forward, hitting Dipper's knee with his cane.

"I don't think you do. You're just as interested in learning magic as I am in teaching it to you," Bill said. Dipper glanced away, jaw working. Bill laughed. "Oh my, Pine Tree, you've sure thrown yourself through a loop, haven't you? All conflicted about what you want?" Dipper followed Bill with his eyes as the demon floated down the bus aisle to the front of the bus. He grabbed onto the handle of the wheel and jerked hard. Dipper grunted as he fell forward off of his seat, hitting the floor. Bill jerked it the other way, and Dipper's head hit the seats as he went sliding down the aisle towards the front. His arms got the worst of the hits as he used them guard against the impact, wincing and gasping against each hit. When he stopped moving, he lifted his arms to peer at Bill, who Dipper was sure would be grinning if he had a mouth. "I can make this a  _very_  easy decision for you," he said, holding his flaming hand out to Dipper.

Dipper stared at the black appendage. What was Bill going on about? Of course he didn't want to accept his deal. He wasn't stupid.

Oh god. He  _was_  considering it.

Had he really been thinking about it this whole time?

Maybe it was just another one of those things he suppressed until someone dredged it up from his subconscious. And Bill would know all about subconscious thoughts.

His hand twitched, and he felt it raise up as if against his will. He felt like he was almost in a trance, and  _god did he want to just shake and get it over with_. Bill looked positively gleeful.

"No!" Dipper suddenly gasped, snatching his hand backwards as he scrambled away. "I won't. I said no the first time, and I'll say it again and again until you  _finally_  get the message! Get out of my head!"

"Now, now, Pine Tree, don't be ridiculous. You know what you want."

" _Get. Out. Of. My. Head!"_

The demon let out a hiss of air, twirling his cane. "Okay, kid,  _yeesh,_  but don't think this is the end of this conversation. You think  _real long_  and _real hard_  about what you have to say next time I come and see you." Bill grew in size, burning red. Dipper shrunk against the seat, terror churning in his gut despite the fighting expression he tried to keep on. "It'll be the last time you see your sister alive if you disappoint me again, you hear?"

* * *

The world snapped back into focus, and Dipper jolted awake with a gasp, feeling as if he'd just broken out beneath waves of ice.

"Dipper? Dipper, are you okay?" Mabel asked, shaking him by the shoulder. He looked at her dazedly, at the green of her sweater, and then at the blue bus seats.

Rubbing his head, he said, "Yeah...I must have just dozed off there for a second." His hands knotted in his lap to stop them from shaking. He was okay. All it was was a dream.  _It was just a dream_.

But of course with Bill it was never  _just_  a dream.

"Are you sure, Dipper-"

_"I said I'm fine, Mabel!"_

Mabel withdrew her hand from his shoulder, looking shocked. She turned back in her seat and pulled Waddles to her chest. "Okay,  _gosh._  Sorry for asking bro-bro."

Dipper closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing in and out slowly to relieve himself of the tight knot in his stomach. It wasn't her fault. None of this was her fault. God. Why did he have to be such an idiot? He opened his eyes and glanced at her.

"Sorry for snapping," he murmured, bumping his hand against hers. She didn't say anything about the way it was shaking, and he was glad for that. Bill had threatened Mabel's life. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to think. All he knew was that he needed to protect her because  _no way in hell was Bill Cipher getting anywhere near his sister._

"It's okay," she said, smiling warmly at him. He forced a smile back to her, and they gave each others hands a squeeze before releasing.

But it wasn't okay.

It really wasn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter; Piedmont!


	4. He Who Bleeds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The twins are back in Piedmont for the year!
> 
> If you want the Falls soon, never fear! I'll only have them back in Piedmont for a chapter or two more before we return to Gravity Falls!
> 
> As always, I don't own Gravity Falls!

The bus ride back to Piedmont felt like it went on forever.

Dipper had his head resting against the window again, feeling the vibrations buzzing through his head. He didn't let himself fall asleep. If he did feel his eyes start to close, he would pinch his arm or his leg, or stretch up and out as best he could in his seat, or even just amuse himself by playing with Waddles.

Mabel had fallen asleep about halfway through the ride back home, completely exhausted from the goodbyes prior to boarding the bus. Even as he busied and minded himself, he knew the only _real_  reason he hadn't yet fallen victim to sleep was because he had to watch over  _her_. He knew all of her quirks and her sleeping patterns. One movement out of place and he was waking her up.

Rationally, Dipper knew that if Bill was going to attack Mabel, he would wait for the right moment. Probably when she was alone.

But Bill wasn't exactly the most  _rational_  being he knew - so it was best to stay on his toes. Always on his toes.

Leaning back in his seat and setting Waddles in his lap, Dipper began stroking the pig's head and back slowly, and just  _thought_.

He thought about how long it would be until the lack of sleep  _really_  began to affect him. He didn't know much about the effects not sleeping had on the body, so he made a mental note to search it up online when they got home.

And that was another thing. He couldn't help but worry that his parents wouldn't just think he'd been doing all-nighters for the sake of it. What if they  _did_  realize something else was very very wrong? He knew they'd worry for sure. They'd probably wanna send him to a therapist or something, and he was most definitely not having that.

Mabel shifted in her sleep, and his thoughts snapped back immediately to her well-being. She stretched out in the seat, before settling down again.

"Ugh," Dipper groaned aloud. All of this was so  _complicated._

If only he still had the journal with him.

"Okay, Dipper, clear your head. Just stop thinking about things," he muttered to himself. He shifted a little, giving Waddle's ear a gentle tug. The pig oinked at him as the pair got more comfortable in their respective seat and lap, ready to remain awake for the rest of the ride home.

* * *

Considering the ride home felt like they'd gone in slow motion, they arrived far too soon. Before he knew it, they'd passed the sign that said they were in Piedmont and heading for the bus station. Dipper shook Mabel awake. "Mabel. Mabel wake up." His sister grunted at him as he shook her, eventually stretching out in the seat and sitting up. She gave her eyes a rub with her hands, clearing out the sleep from them.

"Where are we?"

"Piedmont."

Different emotions crossed her face, some of them happy, most of them sad. She leaned against his arm with a groan. "This sucks, bro-bro. I love Mom and Dad and all, but they give us a bedtime." She murmured.

"Yeah." He said offhandedly, not really focusing.

She frowned, looking at him. "Do you think this is a bad thing, Dipper?" She asked.

Dipper shifted in his seat, but didn't reply. She pursed her lips, and he knew she was thinking about ways she could force the answer out of him. Luckily for him, she dropped the subject. She could obviously see he didn't want to talk about it.

Honestly, Dipper didn't know how she would react if he told her his feelings at the moment. He knew his opinion on Gravity Falls had changed, but only he knew the little yellow reason for that. Realistically, Dipper knew he'd have to tell Mabel about Bill sooner or later. She deserved to know why he was acting the way he was, but then again, was she safer  _not_  knowing about it?

He hated not knowing. It was driving him insane.

The bus jolted up to the boarding platform, and Dipper and Mabel headed towards the bus entrance with Waddles and their things. They got off first, and then people began to load onto the bus from the platform. Mabel perked up beside him, waving her free hand around in the air desperately. "Mooooooom! Daaaaaaad!" She called, racing away from him. Dipper followed after her more slowly, mulling over the fact that her emotions were insane, with his eyes on his parents. His mom squealed at Mabel, running over to her and hugging her. Like Mabel and him, she had brown hair, and like Mabel, she was a bit...uh...'coo-coo bananas'.

Oh wow. He couldn't believe he'd just said that about his  _mom._

He stopped next to his dad, looking at him. His father had almost black hair, curly on his head, and glasses. He smiled a little at Dipper. "Sorry about your holiday being cut short. Stan said something came up and he didn't want to drag you guys around. Did you have a good time?" Dipper shrugged. "Yeah. It was alright. Better than I expected, I guess."

He ruffled Dippers hair. "That's good to hear." He chuckled. "You've been staying up all night again haven't you?"

"Heh...yeah."

_Phew._

"Well we aren't Stan, so you two are going to be going to bed at your  _actual_  bed times from now on, you got that?" Dipper's mom said as she bent down to give him a hug. He hugged her back loosely before they pulled apart and looked at each other. "I bet you two got up to all sorts of mischief. Stan probably didn't discourage you from that I bet!"

"Oh yeah!" Mabel said. Dipper saw that she was beginning to perk up a bit more, eyes bright. "You'll never believe the crazy things we saw! Like this one time, when we were out fishing, we saw this giant-"

"Fish! Yeah! We saw a giant fish!" Dipper jumped in, cutting Mabel off. "Didn't uhm...didn't catch it though..."

Mabel looked briefly confused, staring at Dipper, but he just shook his head at her, as if to say 'I'll explain later.'

"Well, let's get going back home, you two!" His mother said cheerfully. Mabel beamed at her parents as their dad lifted her up onto his shoulders. "Haha, Dipper, now you're even shorter! Alpha twin! Alpha twin!" She said. Dipper just shook his head, tugging on his cap as his mother snorted at them, watching Mabel and her husband walk away to the car.

Dipper bent down to pick up Waddles where Mabel had put the pig when his dad picked her up.

"Do I even wanna ask where you got the pig?" His mom asked.

"Just the fair. His name is Waddles."

"Very Mabel."

"You're letting her keep him right? She'll be devastated if we can't."

"Of course, Dipper." She smiled wider, ruffling his already messy hair from his father. "Indoor pig?"

"Indoor pig."

He relaxed a little, smiling at his mother, and handing over the pig to her.

Maybe things were going to be okay.

* * *

The rest of the summer went by rather quickly. Dipper had explained to Mabel the first chance they got to be alone that talking about what had gone on in Gravity Falls was a crazy idea, and that they'd be looked at like  _they_  were crazy in return if they started talking about zombies and vampires and the like. Of course, there were the occasional slip ups, but that was something that was bound to happen. They'd gotten pretty good at covering their mistakes when they did say something that caused stares.

Dipper, in particular, had gotten very good at hiding things in general.

It wasn't anything  _bad._ Actually, his dreams when he slept had for the most part remained undisturbed by a particularly annoying demon, but on the occasions that something  _did_  happen, he would wake up, get out of bed, and scribble in his book for the rest of the night...and for several nights afterwards. He would write out his fears, what he knew about Bill, the best way to stay awake, what he knew about Bill, what he knew about Bill...really, his whole book was filled with that _stupid triangle_. Usually in his dreams, he never really saw big things to prove to him anyone was there, but sometimes he'd see a flash of an eye  _watching_  him in a dream, like he was being  _checked up on_. It was driving him crazy not knowing if he was imagining it or if Bill  _really was watching him_.

Besides the obvious paranoia, what he really didn't understand was why Bill hadn't actually  _shown up_  yet. Why he hadn't spoken to Dipper again. Why...why nothing had happened to  _Mabel_  yet. Maybe his deduction on the bus had been right, and Bill was just biding his time. Even if that theory was true, it had holes. If Bill really had wanted to attack her, he'd had plenty of chances.

"Hey you." His father said as he knocked on the door. "Time to get up. Don't wanna be late for your first day of the school year, right?"

Dipper groaned as he sat up in his bed, and looked to the other side of the room, eyes meeting only a wall. It had taken a while to get used to not sharing a room with Mabel again. Sometimes he'd wake up from a nightmare, and instead of being able to sit up all night and just  _talk_  with her, he would have to stay in bed and...stare. Stare at roof, stare at the floor, stare at his fingers...just stare.

His feet hit the floor and he stretched. It hardly felt real, this normality, not after the strangeness of Gravity Falls. Even now in August, almost two weeks since they'd come back, he was still constantly looking for things that were out of the ordinary. He'd spent a good twenty minutes in the garden staring at a gnome to see if it moved the other day.

As he'd predicted, there had been absolutely nothing.

Then again, he probably should have picked it up and looked at the 'Made in China' label underneath within the first five minutes.

He rubbed his eyes as he headed into the bathroom, looking in the mirror. He'd totally ditched the bags and gone right for the cart, if the darkness under his eyes were any indication. Squeezing toothpaste onto his brush, Dipper thought about last night. It had been particularly...weird. Despite having stayed up all night  _again_ , he didn't really remember his dream, but he knew it had been really  _really_  bizarre. He vaguely remembered colors all around him - colors he'd never seen before. But that was it.

And it was really starting to  _bother_  him.

He pushed his toothbrush into his mouth and scrubbed his teeth slowly, letting his mind wander.

Dipper wondered briefly where Mabel was. She was probably still sleeping - or deciding which sweater to wear today. Probably that.

He spat the paste out into the sink.

 _What the hell._  He stumbled backwards, dropping his brush with a gasp as he stared into the blood-stained basin.

_Oh god oh god oh god._

He touched his mouth, and when he pulled his hand back it came away red. Jerking his head up to look in the mirror, Dipper suddenly wished he hadn't. His mouth was dyed a dark red from his blood, and his teeth were covered in it. All he could smell was the copper tang of blood, and all he could taste was the copper tang of blood,  _and all he could see was the copper tang of blood._

This couldn't be happening - not here. Not now. He was awake...he was  _sure_ of it. Had he fallen asleep?  _When had he fallen asleep?!_

"Mabel!" He choked, spinning and heading for the door. He tried the handle but it wouldn't budge, no matter what way he pulled and pushed, twisted or turned. He banged his fist against the door, breathing raggedly. " _Mabel!"_

His legs gave out from under him, fingers clawing against the wood as he coughed on the floor, staring aghast at the red that he spluttered all over the tiles. Everything around him was red and he hated that color and  _he didn't want to see it anymore!_

This. Wasn't. Happening.

 _"_ Dipper?"

His head lifted, and he looked up at Mabel. She was wearing a bright pink sweater with, 'I love pigs,' written across the front, but concern was written across her face, tight and pained and  _oh so confused_. He blinked several times to clear his vision, touching his mouth. Nothing. No blood. What the...?

"What are you doing on the floor?"

"...I...I'm...I was just...sitting?" He said lamely.

Mabel frowned deeply down at him, then reached her hand out and helped him up. "I wanna know now." She said. "Something's making you act cray cray. Tell me what's going on." She said bluntly. Dipper said nothing, just looked down at his bare feet, then at the sink, where the white paste sat in the sink where he'd spat it, pure and pale.

"Can we do it...later? Like...after school?" He asked. "When we uhm...when we have more time to talk?"

She didn't look pleased. "Dipper, I don't-"

"Please?"

Her mouth pulled into a deeper frown, but finally, after letting out a sigh, she conceded.

"After school."

"There's no way I'm getting out of it, is there?" He asked weakly, laughing a little awkwardly. He wasn't going to enjoy this conversation.

"Not in this life time, bro-bro."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Thanks everyone for reading! It won't be too long until we're back in Gravity Falls.


	5. Deal With The Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Gravity Falls or the game console mentioned in this chapter!

It was...weird.

It was too  _normal._  It was too _boring._  It was too...it was too...

It was just  _weird._

 _"_ Dipper," a voice said, nudging him. He glanced at the kid next to him, Sam Turneck, as his eyes flickered down to his test paper. His eyes moved down to the page, and saw that, not only had he not written any answers, but in the margins he'd been scribbling in code. He felt his cheeks heats a little, flipping his pencil around and erasing the writing.

He decided not to think about  _why_  Sam had been taking a look at his paper, and bent down to actually start writing.

He was scribbling his final answer when they were told to hand the test in. He actually thought he'd done pretty well, considering his mind was in tangles. Mabel wriggled her eyebrows at him from her assigned seat on the opposite side of the class, but even across the room and joking around, he could still read the concern in her eyes. He glanced at the teacher as she walked past to collect more papers, then looked at Mabel and gave an eyebrow wiggle back.

The final bell ringing made him jump, and he had the forethought of mind to get up and start packing his things away, an anxious coil in his gut.

* * *

"So, Dip. Tell me what's up with you?"

As soon as they'd gotten home, Mabel had dragged him into her bedroom and shoved him down onto a beanbag, which he was currently sinking into it in an attempt to disappear. She had changed out of her pink sweater and into her 'serious sweater'. It was a dull gray, with the words 'serious' written across it in black.

_Yes, yes. Swallow me whole, mysterious beanbag chair, so that I may never deal with Mabel's 'serious sweater' ever again._

"Uhm..."

"Do I need to get the silly string?"

"You most certainly do no-"

"Blarp!" She said, squeezing an aerosol can right into her brothers face. He squeezed his eye shut, face screwing up. "Mabel..." He opened his eyes. She still had her finger on the button, lips pursed.

So much for the serious sweater.

"Bring it on. I have like, two-thousand cans of these."

"You do not."

"Do so."

"Do not."

"Do so."

"Mabel, you'd never be able to hide them all in-ugh." He spat out the string she'd fired straight at his mouth. "Here," he finished as Mabel beamed at him, jabbing him in the shoulder. "So. What's up?"

Dipper let out a slow breath, staring at the ceiling of glow in the dark stars. "I've...been having weird dreams..." He said slowly.

"Dreams?"

"Yeah." He glanced at her. "Bill dreams."

He watched her face carefully, for a reaction. At first she seemed shocked, then worried. She waved her hand, a smile growing. "What can that tortilla chip do?" She dismissed. He thought her grin was weak.

"A lot, Mabel." His own tone was dead serious, cracking a little. He cleared his throat. "He can do a lot." He sat up in the beanbag. "This morning...I must have fallen asleep or something..." His hands gripped his knees. "All I could see was red, Mabel. There was so much blo-"

"Don't say it." She interrupted, plugging her fingers in her ears. She didn't want to hear about it, he could tell. He didn't blame her.

"Why's he been talking to you?" Mabel asked after a few moments of silence.

"I don't know." He replied immediately.

Wait...what?

Of course he knew.

He opened his mouth to tell her about Bill's offer, but found that he just...couldn't do it. The fear running through his head was clear to him. The fear was stopping him from saying what he really thought.

Not fear for himself, though.

_Protect Mabel, protect Mabel, protect Mabel._

He had to  _protect_  her.

His hand clenched into a fist next to him, and the lie started to spout from his mouth. "He just started visiting me one night. I don't know why. He says he has his reasons but...but he hasn't actually  _done_  done anything yet. Like, nothing that actually lasts outside of my dreams." He glanced at her, and saw that she was scrutinzing him. He couldn't tell if she thought he was lying or not.

Finally, she gave a slow nod. "Okay, Dipper. I believe you," she said.

He relaxed. "You do?" She nodded, punching his shoulder. "You're my twin, Dip. If I didn't believe you, we'd have never done anything but work in the Mystery Shack the whole summer."

He smiled a little. "Yeah. I guess your right," he said.

"Of course I am! I'm always right!" Mabel boasted. Dipper snorted at her, only to get sprayed by the silly string again. They laughed a little, but settled down after Dipper had successfully rid himself of all the string. Mabel kicked her feet against the bed. "So...what are you going to do, Dip? You can't stay awake forever."

He sighed. "I know that...but I don't know how I can keep him outta my dreams." After his little freak out in the morning, he thought maybe it was better to force himself to sleep at night rather than do something during the day when people could see him, like if he fell asleep at school without realizing it. Now  _that_ would be truly horrifying.

Mabel picked at some fluff on her sweater. "Maybe we need to think about this some more?"

Dipper looked down and nodded. "Yeah. I think so, too."

He could only hope that until they figured something out, Bill wouldn't try anything else - that he wouldn't do anything to him.

That he wouldn't do anything to Mabel.

His heart constricted at the thought.

He couldn't - he wouldn't - let that happen.

* * *

" _PIGPOWER. YOU WIN,_ " the strong manly voice of the game proclaimed. Dipper glanced at his watch, seeing the time was nine o'clock. They'd sat down to play as soon as school had gotten out, but he was a little surprised as to how he'd managed to waste so long playing. Usually he gt bored after the first few games - though they  _had_  had dinner at six, so he supposed there was a big enough break between games for himself to reset and want to play again.

Mabel punched Dippers arm. "Woohoo! I win!" She shouted loudly, waving her arms in the air. Dipper rolled his eyes, smiling. "You are  _such_  a dork."

"Not as big a dork as  _you_ , DipDop,' she said. He covered her mouth with his hand, her words muffled. "I am so not a dork, and-" he began, only to feel her tongue lick across his palm. He withdrew his hand, face shriveling up with mild disgust. "Ew, Mabel, gross!"

"Pfft. You're just a sore loser." She said with a mischievous grin. She sat up straight, pointing towards the kitchen. "Now go make me a sandwich, wench!"

Muttering with annoyance, Dipper stood up, wiping his hand off on her hair and mussing it up in the process. "Dippeeeeeeer!" She whined at him as it fluffed up on top of her head, like it had been electrified.

He washed his hands in the kitchen sink, the cool spray of the faucet chilling his hands.

Everything felt too placate. He hadn't seen hide or hair of Bill in the last few days, and his dreams weren't full of blood or panic or fear, like they had been. In fact, he'd been having really  _good_ dreams, like he used to have. Ones where he was onstage, giving his speech as valedictorian - even though that moment was years away.

He dried his hands off and got out a slice of bread (which he put on a plate), Nutella, and a butter knife.

_What the heck are you planning, Bill?_

Dipper honestly, didn't know if he was over thinking it. What if Bill had given up?

_No, no, that would be too easy._

He spread the Nutella on the bread, the intense chocolate smell searing his nostrils. He let out a long sigh. "Stop thinking about it, Dipper. Just stop," he muttered to himself, putting the knife in the dishwasher and placing the Nutella back in the cupboard. He rubbed his eyes, seeing his reflection in the countertop. Even though he'd been getting a good amount of sleep lately, he could still see the dark smears beneath his eyes.

Shaking his head, Dipper picked up the plate and carried it out into the kitchen, where Mabel had started a fresh game. Waddles snorted at Dipper from where he sat on top of his remote.

It looked like he was winning.

"Here," Dipper said, placing the plate down in front of Mabel before sitting himself down beside her, legs crossed.

"No butter?"

"No butter."

"You know me so-"

"Well?" He finished for her. She grinned. "Well, duh, we're twins. Of course I do." She punched his arm with one hand as she tapped the x button repeatedly, kicking Waddles' player in the face as ' _COMBO KICK_ ' flashed across the screen.

Dipper stretched out as he flopped down onto the long purple sofa.

"Uuuuuugh!" Mabel dropped her controller and took an aggressive bite of her sandwich as the words, " _DIPPINGSTICK. YOU WIN,_ " were proclaimed by the voice in the game.

Dipper chortled. "How did a pig beat you?" He asked. Mabel blew a raspberry at his face. "Shut your face, Dipper! If Waddles can beat me, he can beat you!" She said, jabbing her finger into his cheek. He rolled his eyes at her.

"Hey now, you two, I thought I said it was bedtime thirty minutes ago," their mother tutted at them as she came out of the office, hands on her hips. Dipper and Mabel glanced at each other, then at their mother. "Okay, go now. Jammies, teeth, and bed." She shooed them off, cleaning up the gaming console herself as Mabel scooped up Waddles and raced out of the room. Dipper trailed behind her before turning into his bedroom across from hers.

He stretched his arms, yawning as he changed into a different shirt and shorts before padding quietly into the bathroom.

Mabel was already there, ferociously brushing her teeth.

"You have Nutella all over your face," he pointed out.

She grunted at him as she spat the paste into the sink. He picked up his own brush and paste, slowly brushing his teeth as he pushed her over so he could stand in front of the mirror too. "Womp," she said, hitting his arm. "I was  _getting_  to that." Dipper smiled slightly, shaking his head. She whipped out a hairbrush from one of the drawers, a bright purple one with her name written across it.

And stickers. Lots of stickers.

She combed her hair as he brushed his teeth, the pair of them falling into a companionable silence.

Dipper spat the paste out into the sink, washing his brush clean and putting it away. "See you in the morning, Mabes," he said.

"Wait. Dip," she said. He paused halfway out the door, glancing at her.

She was staring at him with those wide eyes of hers, the brush halfway through her tangles of hair.

"Hm?" His tone was confusion.

"Just..." She shook her head. "Have a good sleep, dork."

He put on a smile that he hoped was as bright as he wanted it to be.

_I am as bright as the freaking sun. Call me Ra, peasants._

"I haven't seen him in a while Mabel. Maybe he's given up," he tried to assure.

"You think?" She asked hopefully.

He nodded. "Yeah," he said lamely, trailing further out the door. "Anyway...g'night. Sweet dreams, yeah?"

She gave a powerful smile in his direction as he turned and headed back to his bedroom.

Dipper climbed into bed after shutting his door, the blankets warming him. He tucked them up under his chin, burying his face in his pillow. He heard Mabel heading to her bedroom, heard the door opening and shutting, and then silence.

Really, Dipper had planned to stay awake, but his eyes became heavier and heavier, the pulls of sleep becoming yanks and tugs, and then - finally, he was being completely embraced in the curls of its warmth, completely under it's spell.

* * *

All he could feel was fire.

Fire licking up his arms, fire burning around him, a fire so blue that it shone like a million sapphire.

Everything burned.

" _Bill!_ " His scream echoed around him as he fought through the flames, battling through the burns that seared against his skin. He stumbled over a fallen ceiling beam, regained his composure, and continued on. He didn't know where he was going, how he wasn't already burnt to death despite the pain licking across his skin, why he didn't know where he was. Why could he see nothing but flames? How long had he been running? How had the fire even  _started?_ The only thing he knew for certain was that he was asleep.

He had a horrible feeling in his chest.

" _Bill! Show yourse_ -" He broke off as he stumbled over top of something larger than a beam, something that wore a bright purple sweater with the Nyan cat across the front, pooping rainbows. He tripped and fell to the floor with a grunt, looking up.

If he had been standing, his knees would have given out under him.

He stared in silence, eyes widening with horror and mouth opening to scream though no sound came out. The fire roaring at him reflected the screams he wanted to let loose, but couldn't. He just couldn't.

He swallowed, inching forward on his knees, feeling them scrape against what felt like concrete beneath him. All he was, was numb. "Mabel..." When his voice did come out, it was barely a squeak, his hand quaking as he reached out to shake her. Her body was limp, moving with every push and pull of his hand, but not actually reacting. "Mabel, this isn't  _funny_. Mabel,  _wake up!_ " He shouted at her, shaking her harder with both hands. "Mabel,  _please!_ " He let out a stressed sort of sound - a sob?

"Mabel... _don't leave me."_

He buried his face in her sweater, clutching onto it as he heaved a great big, gulping sob. "Mabel...oh god, Mabel." Everything hurt. A chainsaw shredded straight through his heart, an axe hacking away at the pieces.

 _Everything_  burned.

"Hard to see, eh Pine Tree?"

Dipper's head snapped up at the snide tone, eyes falling on the triangle that had been plaguing him for weeks.

At first, he only registered panic, but then fury replaced it, matching the jumping flames that swirled and spun around like, like a demented dance. " _You,_ " he hissed, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"You did this!" He shouted up at Bill as the demon stretched out his long black limbs.

"So what if I did?" He asked, looking down at Dipper from where he floated above. Dipper breathed in shakily breath of hate.

"You killed her."

"I might have."

"You  _KILLED_  her!" He aimed a punch at Bill, but missed by a mile. Bill snapped his fingers and forced Dipper back down to his knees, arms locked at his sides. He came to sit next to the boy, one leg crossed over the other.

"Here's the thing, Pine Tree. This is a dream, I'm sure you've realized that by now," he said as Dipper struggled, his arms disobeying him as he tried to move them in an attempt to strangle him (could he even do that to the triangle?). "But, I most certainly  _can_  kill her, if you continue to fight me on this." His eye gleamed nastily.

Dipper clenched his teeth, raging like the flames that filled every space around him. "Like hell I'd make a deal with you!"

" _Dipper,_ " Bill chided, treating him like he was two instead of twelve. "Think with a clear head for a moment, won't you. This attitude isn't going to get you or your sister anywhere." He snatched up Dipper's hand, dragging him up into the air and away from the flames and Mabel. Dipper struggled and kicked out, trying to pry Bills hand off of his.

"Mabel!  _Mabel!_ " He shouted as he fought to get back to her. Horror covered his expression as the flames engulfed her completely, a cry strangling his throat. He reached out his free arm for her, letting loose the wild screams he couldn't before. He was hyperventilating, and he was crying and all he could do was  _scream and scream and scream._

His eyes closed, tears streaking down his cheeks.

_Mabel._

Dipper hung in the air as Bill pulled him along, using his hand to cover his mouth and choke back his sobs. Bill was right, of course. He knew it was just a dream. But seeing that...seeing her taken by the flames.

It was too much.

Bill smacked him across the face, and Dipper opened his eyes. They were in Mabel's bedroom, and she was sleeping soundly, a smile on her face from what he could only assume were good dreams. He could imagine that right now, he was tossing and turning in his sleep - maybe he had even fallen out of bed. It was dark in the room, an eerie wind brushing his cheeks like the caress of a hand.

She was okay.

She wasn't dead.

_She wasn't dead._

Bill dropped him and he landed on the floor with an 'oof!' Dipper propped himself up on his elbows, throwing a look at Bill where the triangle floated above him. He extended a hand, and it grew longer and longer, becoming a rope that wrapped itself around Mabel's neck. She let out a choking noise, the smile leaving her face as she began to panic in her sleep, twitching and turning. Fear was etched into her face and no matter how hard he struggled he couldn't  _get_  to her and he needed  _to get to her!_

"Wake up, Mabel! Wake up!" Dipper demanded, shouting out at her, but she didn't stir, only continued to struggle. A whine of pain escaped her mouth.

" _Di-Dip-per._ "

He turned his head to Bill. "Let her go!" He shouted.

"Have you changed your mind, Dipper?" Bill asked as the rope tightened, Mabel was beginning to go blue in the face, her movements becoming sluggish. She stuttered out his name, weaker this time,

" _Di-Di..._ "

Oh dear god,  _no._

Dippers mind was working overtime, but time slowed to the point where it felt like everything was moving backwards. If he didn't take the deal, Mabel was going to die.  _He_  was probably going to die. If he took the deal...well, he didn't know what would happen. All he knew was that it had something to do with teaching him magic. What Bill was to gain from such a deal, he didn't know. His emotions were seizures spreading through his veins. The fire of rage, the chill of fear, the waves of sorrow...

Everything  _burned._

"Promise me!" He finally said, the world speeding up with the adrenaline that began pumping through him. There was a strange moaning in the room, twisting around Bill and himself like a hurricane. Grotesque shadows spun across the walls. "Promise me you won't hurt her!"

Bill's eye flashed with triumph. The rope loosened around Mabel's neck and retracted back to the usual length of his arm. He held the appendage out to Dipper. "Sure, Pine Tree, " He said with a high pitched laugh. "I guess that means we have a deal?" Blue flamed licked up his arm.

Dipper dropped his head, defeat in his posture, and self-loathing written over his face. He held out his hand, the limb, he knew, was moving by his own will.

_Grunkle Stan._

_Great Uncle Ford._

_Mabel._

_Forgive me._

"We...we have a deal."

His words sounded tired even to his own ears, but not the tired of someone sleep deprived.

_I'm sorry._

Bill snatched up his hand in his own, that shark grin on his face. Dipper choked up as the fire raced up his own earthquake of an arm.

"Thanks, Pine Tree. Let's meet up again soon, kay?"

Dipper panicked as blue enveloped his vision.

_Everything burned._

* * *

Dipper jolted up in his bed, gasping for air. His torso was slicked with so much sweat his shirt felt practically tattooed on. He raked a hand through this hair, breathing hard and fast as he looked around him. His heart palpated in his chest like the bashing of a drum. He pulled his hand from his hair, sucking in a deep breath and holding it.

He could only hope that he hadn't just made the biggest mistake in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All done! This chapter was actually really hard to write - I think I rewrote about five times? Ah well, this is the best one I put together, so hopefully the characters aren't OOC or anything.
> 
> Thanks for reading and reviewing!
> 
> For those who don't know, Ra is the Egyptian sun god. As mentioned above, I am far happier with this rewritten version! Hopefully some mistakes were fixed in the process! Next chapter: back to the Falls!


	6. Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Chapter 6! Back in the Falls for this one! A bit of a filler chapter, but there is some character development here - woohoo!
> 
> I also have a Tumblr account - FilthyMallards! Feel free to check it out and send me asks or whatever! 
> 
> Any who, onto the chapter, and I don't own Gravity Falls!

The world moved sluggishly around him. People were snails, despite the quickness of their steps. People were sloths, despite the forcefulness of their movements. People were frozen in time, despite each succession of movement that allowed them to carry onward. Dipper wondered what it was like to be an adult, in complete control of ones life, as he stared absentmindedly at a women who was speaking quickly on her cellphone, boarding the bus to downtown Los Angeles. From her business attire, he guessed she was going to work.

Currently, they were waiting in the bus station after getting off of their bus from Piedmont, and well...it was the perfect opportunity for him to just clear his head. All the hustle and bustle distracted Mabel from looking at him too much, and she was really fascinated by all the strange stains that were soaked into the benches (and the hobo's. He'd given up on telling her not to poke the strange man curled up under a newspaper on one of the benches).

Closing his eyes, Dipper breathed in a long, soft breath of air, and immediately regretted it. The air stunk of sweat and tobacco smoke and - ew. Gross. Was that  _pee?_

He rubbed a hand over his face, eyes opening back up as he took in his sisters grinning face as she bedazzled the hobo's jacket with smiley face stickers. She caught Dipper looking at her and beamed even wider. She'd gotten to take her braces off in May, and although she'd never had a problem dazzling a smile before, it was bigger than ever now.

Really, this whole year had been...oddly relaxing.

He'd passed through his tests with flying colors, and gotten almost all A's, a couple B's, and a D overall in gym class.

He wasn't surprised.

Mabel had gotten mostly C's, a few D's, a couple B's, and even an A or two. She'd been super proud of her report card when she'd shown their parents - or well, legitimately shoved into their faces. They'd been proud too, and although Dipper had gotten the better grades, he knew that she'd really worked for her marks.

Their birthday had been pretty fun too, all things considered. For their twelfth birthday, his parents had allowed Dipper to choose the theme of the party, which had really only been a trip to the movies with some friends.

For their thirteenth however, everything had to be taken to the extreme. The whole thing had been  _pink_. Pink cake, pink candles, pink bouncy castle, pink, pink, pink.

He hadn't minded, really, because Mabel was  _happy_.

Besides. He'd had much more worrisome things to think about over what he wanted on their birthday cake.

After making the deal with Bill, he'd expected some sort of repercussions immediately. But there had been absolutely nothing. Not a word, not a twinkle, not a laugh, not even a sigh - in the living world or in his dreams. It was shaping up to be...rather anticlimactic. Realistically, Dipper knew that he had to think about this more rationally. Bill wouldn't just make a deal with him and then pop out of his life forever.

Dipper's toes curled in his shoes.

_Trust no one. Remember that._

"..per. Dipper! We're boarding!" His sister shouted into his ear, giving him a nudge. He jumped a little, raising his head to look at the destination of the bus; Salem, Oregon.

And then from there he knew, they'd be boarding their final bus to Gravity Falls, Oregon.

Part of him quivered with excitement, another with nerves, and another with anxiety.

The bus pulled up in front of them, the doors opening. "Now departing Los Angeles, California, for Salem, Oregon," the automated voice said as he and Mabel got on, heading for the back of the bus.

Mabel flopped down into her seat, dumping her suitcase next to her as she twisted one side of her hair into a plait, fingers moving quickly through the thick brown of a nest. He gave her a long look.

"Just in case there are any hot guys in Salem. Gotta look my best, Dip-Dip," she said with a grin, tying a black elastic at the end of her hair and starting on the other half.

He stretched his arms out in front him as he settled down with his bag on his lap, picking at a loose thread.

Mabel watched him, tying the end of her hair and looking at him with concerned expression. "What's wrong, Dip?"

He looked uncomfortable. "I'm just...well...what if Bill is still around, Mabel?" He asked.

Mabel didn't look pleased to be having this conversation, but it wasn't like she knew the worst of what had happened. She hadn't a clue about the deal he'd made - and he planned to keep it that way. No way was he getting her involved in his issues.

"Come on, Dipper, you said you haven't seen him in like, almost a whole year now!" She leaned in close to him, forcing him to lean back in his seat. "You're a big thirteen year old with several chest hair now. He comes at you, PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE!" Several of the others on the bus turned their heads to look at them. Dipper sunk lower in his seat.

"He doesn't really have a face, Mabes."

"Then poke him in the eye!"

"You aren't helping."

She ruffled around in her bag, and there was an oink. A bright pink head popped out of the bag. "Shh!" Mabel said, her eyes darting around to make sure none of the other passengers and see. Her smuggled pig. Waddles plopped back down in the bag, nose out the top of the bag and on her lap.

Dipper leaned his head against the side of the bus. He wasn't even going to ask.

"Anyway, Dip, I'm sure it's been fine. He left you alone, and he hasn't tried to talk to you again in like, a trillion years, so I'm sure he's gone off to bother some other thirteen-year-olds or something!"

_I wish I could believe that, Mabel, I wish I could._

He gave her the biggest smile he could muster, and it seemed to convince her enough to drop the subject.

_I really wish I could._

* * *

The bus ride from Salem to Gravity Falls was too jumpy to get any rest. It took the best part of a day to get from Piedmont to Gravity Falls, and _oh god if he didn't get off of this bus soon he was going to vomit._

Dipper hadn't let himself think about Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford (honestly - he still didn't know how those two had managed to explain any of Stanford's reappearance to his parents), and now that he did, he was beginning to fret.

What if they were going to treat him like they had before?

_Surely not. It's been a year._

What if Mabel started ignoring him in favor of Candy and Grenda?

_No, that wouldn't happen - don't be an idiot Dipper._

What if they found out about his-

_What if they found out about the deal?_

Dipper glanced at Mabel, who was sleeping with Waddles hugged to her in her smuggling bag (forever to be dubbed thee). His heart constricted painfully. He knew what her reaction would be, at least. Hurt, anger, betrayed.

_Grunkle Stan. I trust-_

_NO! No! Don't you_ dare _go down that path Dipper Pines!_

Dipper violently shook his head, eyes squeezed shut.

Now wasn't the time to remember things that were in the past.

He had to concentrate on the now.

Like holding down his lunch as they travelled along the bumpy road that he had familiarized himself as leading to the Shack.

He succeeded in not barfing all over the place for the most part, though he gave a not-quite-alright hiccup burp that may or may not have left the taste of seconds in his mouth as they stopped outside the Mystery Shack.

He gave Mabel a quick shake, staring at the Shack like he'd never seen it before.

But of course he'd seen this place before. It looked exactly that same as when they had first arrived at the Falls, the year before. Not broken, not torn up, not falling apart.

His home away from home.

Mabel mumbled next to him, but whatever she had been about to blurt out was quickly cut off in favor of a screech of, "GRUNKLE STAN! GREAT UNCLE FORD"

She launched herself out of the bus with her bags and a squealing Waddles, putting them down so she could hug them. Dipper watched her from the window, muscles ( _haha_ ) coiled in apprehension. He picked up his own bags, thanked the bus driver and stepped off the bus.

All he managed to compute as he walked over to them was the bus taking its leave, and Mabel burbling on about who knows what. He caught 'school', 'boring', and 'funky fresh disco tunes', but other than that, it was just complete and utter nonsense.

"It's good to see you, Dipper. You...uh...you look well."

Dipper's head jerked up to meet his Great Uncle's eyes, his eyebrows rising with shock.

_Eh?_

He was actually talking to him?

"U-uhm...thanks?" He said, brows drawing down and kitting together in confusion.

Stanford wouldn't meet his eyes, looking around at the forest awkwardly, then at Mabel and Grunkle Stan who had - for some unforeseeable reason - already started betting against who could drink the most soda in the next ten minutes.

"I er...I haven't forgotten what I said to you last year," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Dipper just blinked up at him.

"You're just a kid. Too smart for your own good, but still just a kid. I'm sorry, if that's worth anything to you at all. But you know-"

"-trust no one. Yeah. I know."

The pair stared at each other for a moment, then Dipper cracked a smile. "You honestly have no idea how crazy I've been going not being able to ask you any questions," he said. "Like, seriously, I had this whole list of questions that I wrote last time I was here, and just..." His smile widened. "It's awesome. Really. Thank you."

His grandfather managed to muster a small smile.

Dipper thought he might have even seen a tinge of pride their for a moment, before a firm hand clapped down on his shoulder, guiding him inside the Shack to where Mabel and Grunkle Stan had disappeared into the kitchen. Dipper could already count 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 cans of Pitt on the floor.

_If Mom ever found out what we get up to here, she'd blow a gasket._

But right now he didn't care.

Right now, he wanted to cheer on his sister as she started her third can of soda, and laugh at the fizzy bubbles pouring out of his Grunkle's nose.

Maybe Mabel was right.

Maybe things would be okay.

* * *

The rest of the day was spent putting their things away in their old room, getting caught up on everything that had happened the past year between the two pairs of twins, and avoiding speaking about...well, the unusual problems that Gravity Falls presented.

Dipper traipsed downstairs slowly in his pyjamas, stretching slightly as he walked into the kitchen."

Mabel was helping herself to a slice of meaty pizza when he walked in.

"Dipper!" She said around the food in her mouth, swallowing before giving him a big grin. He mustered a smile back, sitting next to her. He was glad for her. She seemed so happy to be back. "Hurry up before Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford eat everything!" He took a peek into the pizza box, and sure enough, there were only a few slices left. He grabbed himself a slice, taking a small bite. It tasted really good after such a long day, the squish of cheese against his teeth making his taste-buds sizzle.

"Where did they go, anyway?"

Mabel shrugged. "Through the vending machine, I think..." Her voice trailed off, and she glanced at him, her expression tightening as his own fingers clenched into fists.

"Dipper," she said, resting her hand on his shoulder. "You know that-"

"Yeah," his voice was quiet and cool, even to his own ears. "I get it. It isn't your problem." He brushed her hand off of his shoulder as he stood up. He forced himself to ignore the expression on her face, and the way her arm hung limply at her side. He didn't want to fight. He didn't want to ruin her day. "Look... I think I might just go up to bed and read a book anyway. No big deal. You enjoy the rest of your night, okay?"

Mabel stared at him for a long moment, her expression softening into something a little more mischievous. "If you're asleep when I get up there, I'm covering you in stickers, nerd," she teased as he started heading back upstairs, the pizza hanging from his mouth. He turned, flicked her the thumbs up, then continued up to their bedroom.

Really, today had been so long. They'd had to get up at 5:00 am to get to Gravity Falls before nightfall, and 5:00 am was not a time he wished to repeat waking up for. All nighters? Awesome. Not going to bed  _until_  5:00 am? Equally as cool.

But waking  _up_  then? Heck. No.

He finished his pizza slice on his way upstairs, wiping his hands on his shorts before pulling back the bed covers and getting in. It was dark in the room, but he didn't want to flick on the main light, so he settled with the lantern on the table as his light source. He picked up the book next the lantern - an old ratty mystery book he'd read at least twelve times - and shifted into a comfortable position to continue reading it.

The room was quiet. All he could hear was his breath, the occasional flipping of a page, and sometimes the little patter of mice feet.

This was what he loved most about Gravity Falls. Piedmont was so loud. There were always cars roaring up and down the street, the sounds of slamming doors, cats screeching in the distance, or dogs barking in response...but here, it was quiet. Yes there was Mabel, but she was Mabel. He was used to her type of loud, and could block her out if necessary. Yes there were the weird noises that came from the forest sometimes, but who wouldn't want to investigate those?

Yes. Overall, Gravity Falls was a quiet backdrop amongst the loudness of his thoughts and his life.

Dipper rubbed his eyes as they started to drift shut, the book slipping from his hands and hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Dang.

What page was he on?

* * *

"Long time no see,  _Piiiine Tree!_ " A chipper voice was what woke him, and a chipper voice was what made him want to go back to sleep -  _normal_  sleep.

His eyes fluttered open.

Bill was hovering right in front of him, his eye about an inch from his own pair.

"Ahck!" Dipper yelped, scrambling away from the floating triangle. His head banged against a tree and he grimaced, rubbing the sore spot as he struggled to sit up.

He took in his surroundings.

Black and white. The black trees loomed above them, reaching high into the blinding white of sunlight that caressed the edge of the shadows. The only colors that he could see seemed to be Bill and himself.

That didn't comfort him in the least.

_Okay, now is the time to wake up, Dipper. Just imagine yourself waking up. Imagine Mabel is shaking you. Open you eyes. Open. Your. Eyes._

Bill tsked at him, humming nonchalantly to himself as he settled down beside Dipper. He tapped his knee with his cane. "Now now, Pine Tree, running away from your brand new boss isn't going to earn you  _any_  promotions!"

"...B-Boss?"

Bill gasped mockingly. "That's right, Pine Tree, boss! You could also call me teacher, or master - oh I quite like that one! Yeah, use that one!" He laughed nastily. It left him with a really unpleasant feeling. "And rest assured, you're going to be doing  _a lot_  of work for me."

Dipper swallowed.

This wasn't good.

"U-uhm..." His voice was a squeak.

Bill flung an arm around Dippers shoulders, laughing harder in that echo of a voice he had. Dipper's face scrunched up, a pinched expression marring his features.

Bill's arm felt like nothing, but all the same, Dipper felt like he was being constricted and crushed, felt the slithering hiss of the dream demon whispering his nightmares into his head. He was shaking - he could feel the quivering running up and down his body.

"Oh, come on, loosen up! I haven't even done anything yet!" Bill sneered, waving his free arm. He drifted upwards into the air, his cane hooking around Dippers neck and yanking him up with him. Dipper let out a choking sound. No air no air no air!

He felt the cane remove from his neck, and Dipper opened his eyes (when had he closed them?).

Oh dear god no he was too high, way too high up and he was going to fall and what the heck was there to hold onto and-

Wait.

He wasn't falling.

The ground was spinning away from him as he floated up into the air, no gravity holding him down. It was a very surreal feeling - completely different to anything he'd ever felt before. He felt in control of his movements, but light like a feather.

The black and white forest beneath them was growing further and further away. He could see a large clear pool of water not far from an open clearing. The water blinked with a million stars.

A large gush of air pushed him forward, sending him into a spiral of somersaults. The world below spun into a big, blobby, blur. Laughter bubbled up in his throat because Mabel was so missing out and this was super fun and-

And Mabel.

He stuck his foot out, his spins slowing down, and then stuck his other foot out to stop himself from spinning altogether. Now he was just rising up after the glowing demon, who's one eye was narrowed down onto him. Dipper couldn't read the expression in Bill's eye, but he could feel he was pleased.

Dipper suddenly didn't think this was quite so fun anymore.

"What makes you think I'm going to learn from you willingly? Do the things that you want me to?" He found himself asking. "What's stopping me from telling anyone?"

Bill's long black arm extended from where he floated, going down to Dipper's head and tussling his fluffy hair. "Oh, aren't you just  _adorable,"_  he said excitedly. "What, you think I don't have plans for you, Pine Tree? What sort of demon would I be if I just left you hanging in the dark there?"

"A preferable one."

Bill rolled his eye. "Oh come on, Pine Tree! Where's the fun in that?"

"You're a psychopath."

Bill blinked. "What's your point?"

Dipper scowled.

Bill laughed, smacking Dipper on the back. "Anyway, kid, why would I tell you anything?"

That was a good point. Why  _would_  Bill tell him anything?

He licked his lips, face a disgruntled mask. "...because...because I'm your..." His jaw jerked in denial.

_Come on, Dipper, just get on with it._

"Because I'm your s-s-"

"S-s-seeeeerv...come on kid, say it!"

Now Bill was just taunting him. The wicked gleam in his eyes proved it.

_Jerk._

"Servant, okay!" Dipper burst out aggressively, going red with humiliation. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm your servant."

Bill clapped sarcastically. "Wow! I almost forgot you could say  _words_  for a second there, Pine Tree!"

He stopped moving abruptly, and Dipper found he'd stopped moving too, hovering in midair as they looked down.

"Welcome to the mindscape kid.  _Your_  mindscape."

He felt the coldness of his nightmares touch his shoulder.

And then the world suddenly burst into color.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! All done here! More to come in the next few days! I'm super busy with school, right now so I may have to start focusing on getting all my projects up to date, before I become too overrun and like, mentally breakdown or something. There is so much to be done this year - and with work on top of that! Phew!
> 
> Oh and for the record, I have no clue how long it takes to get to Oregon from California. I just went off what I could find on Google!
> 
> Thanks for reading and reviewing! See you all next chapter!


	7. Yellow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 7!
> 
> I don't own Gravity Falls!

The sun dazzled with a golden heat, burning a hot, shining yellow in the sky that made him cover his eyes. It was too dazzling. The pressing brightness burned his eyelids.

When he became adjusted to the searing sight, his eyes opened, only to see that he was staring at the ground above him. A gasp tore from his lips, and his head snapped downwards to the...sky? His whole body lurched, and his hands scrambled wildly in the air as he rolled around like a tumbleweed. Bill seemed quite at ease, his cane in his hands and poised primly.

Color spread from the yellow ball of fire in the sky, developing from a dull white to a light blue. The world righted itself, and the ground became the ground and the sky became the sky again.

And then he was falling as if a trapdoor had been placed under him, a scream raking out of his throat as he started to tumble back to the brown, dirt covered ground. He tried to back pedal, feet kicking out uselessly in the air as he saw the points of trees fast approaching. Trees whipped his sides as he fell, slapping him across the face, and slinging him back up into the air whenever he was caught by their forest green hammocks, only for him to continue crashing head first towards the forest floor a moment later. His body gave an odd sort of jerk, and he grunted as he was tossed sideways through the air. Branches scarred his skin as he was flung away from the canopy and towards the lagoon below him.

Dipper's body impacted with the dripping pool of starry blue below him, a huge splash echoing across the silent landscape. His body floated through the water, his screams garbled as he choked for oxygen. He clawed himself upwards, his head breaking the surface with a large gasp. Floundering around, blinking water from his eyes, he managed to catch sight of Bill. The demon was sitting at the edge of the mini lagoon on a sun drenched rock, legs crossed. He looked pleased with himself.

"Fun eh, Pine Tree?" He asked.

Dipper sent him a look of loathing, swimming slowly towards the outer edges of the pool and dragging his drenched body out. He lay flat on his stomach, his head buried in the soft dirt, feet still dipped in the water. He felt exhausted, and his whole body ached all over.

He felt a tap on the back of his head, turning his face to look at the imposing triangle. "So, you liking it so far? Heh, who am I kidding? Of course you do!" Bill hooked his cane around Dipper's neck, flipping him over and sitting him up. Dipper only choked a little bit this time.

Dipper glared at him, rubbing his throat before crossing his arms stubbornly. "What was the point in that?" He demanded

Bill looked smug. "I dunno, Pine Tree, why don't you stand up and tell me?"

Dipper stared at the expression in Bill's eye with his own narrowed. He pressed his palm against the floor and pulled himself up slowly.

And...nothing happened.

"Stop  _playing_  with me Bill, and just tell me what's going-" He began. Bill slapped a hand over his mouth, effectively cutting him off.

"Stupid human. Look at your feet."

Dipper was tempted to not do it - just for the sake of angering Bill, but then decided against it, glancing down at his feet.

His feet, that weren't touching the floor.

His feet, that were _floating._

His heart seized as he glanced at Bill, who reflected the way he was erm, _hovering,_  almost exactly.

He didn't like it. Not one bit.

"What did you  _do_  to me?!" He shouted with horror.

Bill shrugged. "Not much - yet. But hey! Floating is pretty cool, isn't it, Pine Tree?"

Dipper said nothing, teeth clenched angrily. He didn't  _understand_  - and that was what frustrated him most. He didn't know what Bill's motives were. Bill had had plenty of opportunities to get rid of him, but instead he'd chosen to teach magic to him. It didn't seem to have any logical moves.

But Bill wasn't like a chess board, or any of the other creatures that resided in Gravity Falls. He was something so much worse - something so much more complex and frustrating and  _terrifying._

Dipper, for all his stubbornness was terrified of what Bill could do.

Bill grabbed Dipper by his sopping wet shirt, yanking him closer. His body was starting to sizzle a darker color, going orange, then red. The heat exuding from his body was enough to dry out his clothing. "Play along Pine Tree, or I'll bring your sister in here," he said, his lazy, rather jovial tone, had a crueler undertone to it, growing louder as he spoke, as if daring Dipper to argue back. "That's not what you want now, is it?"

"You promised you wouldn't hurt her."

"I keep my end of the deal if you keep yours."

Dipper tensed up, panicking inwardly. He didn't doubt that Bill would drag her in here, just to spite him. He could only guess the type of things he might do to her.

An image of Mabel's burning body flashed through his mind.

"I'll play along, okay?! I'll play along!" He said desperately, waving his hands at him in defeat.

Bill released him. "That's what I thought.." He gave Dipper a condescending pat on the head, then floated away with a little wiggle of one finger, indicating Dipper was to follow.

Dipper's jaw worked, teeth grinding together. He hated this, and Bill knew it. He had no control, and Bill  _knew_  it. It was why Bill hadn't answered his question earlier, about what would stop him from telling Mabel, because he already  _knew_  Dipper wasn't going to say anything. Bill  _knew_  Dipper would do anything for Mabel, and he  _knew_  how to exploit that strength as a weakness.

_Bill. I swear, if you so much as touch a single hair on Mabel's head..._

His hands trembled a little, and he clenched them into fists.

He'd protect her - to death if he had too.

_Best not to think about that._

_Think of something else._

_Like...like..._

His eyes shifted over to Bill as he pulled open a door hidden in a tree and floated inside. Dipper was a few moments behind him, the door shutting behind him.

_Is this...is this my fifth grade classroom?_

There was only a single desk in the room, a long blackboard in front of where the desk faced.

Bill blinked over at Dipper, his eye a clock. "It's time to wake up now. See you tonight - 10 pm," he said, pointing at his eye. "This is your one and only warning." His eye turned that pulsating red, narrowing into a glare.

"Don't be late."

* * *

Dipper's eyes fluttered open.

The slanted roof of the Shack greeted him above.

He ran a hand through his hair, pausing midway through and - with a pained grimace - peeled a sticker out of the brown fluff.

_You are the cat's meow._

"Ergh. Mabel..." He muttered, looking to her side of the room.

Mabel was fast asleep in her bed, so he guessed that it was pretty late. Seeing the '3:05 am' on his alarm clock only confirmed it for him.

He pulled the covers off of himself, going to Mabel's side of the room and sticking the sticker to her forehead. He peeled any others he found on his clothing and body off of himself, and stuck them all over her face and arms. She didn't even twitch.

Dipper stared down at her for the longest time, face pinched.

_You're doing this for her. Remember that._

He spun around quickly to go back to bed.

And that was when he noticed something felt... _odd._

He slowly looked down at his feet, his face growing pale and his mouth opening with shock and panic.

They weren't touching the floor.

_His feet weren't touching the floor._

But he could  _tell_  he was totally corporeal and  _what the hell was going on oh no oh no oh no._

Dipper breathed in deeply, held it, then let it out slowly in a soft breath of air.

"Shit."

* * *

"Hey, Broseph, want some Stancakes for breakfast?" Mabel hollered at Dipper as he came down the stairs slowly, dressed and (not quite) ready for the day. His eyes were focused not on his sister, but on his feet.

Last night, he'd  _totally_  freaked out - hyperventilating like crazy and pulling at his hair and telling his feet  _'no, you belong on the floor you traitorous appendages.'_ After a while of floating around the room, trying to figure out what to do, he managed to calm down. It was with calming down that came his ability to focus on making his feet touch the floor, and the joy and relief that bubbled in him was enough for his feet to yank off of the ground again.

So now, he was taking  _great precaution_  not to feel too happy or angry or  _anything,_  lest he start floating around again and scare the others.

After he'd taken his seat next to Mabel he felt safe to actually look at her. She was wearing a furry blue sweater with, 'Gimme Cookies' on the front, and a half eaten chocolate chip cookie and crumbs in the center of the words. The stickers he'd put on her face were still stuck there, but the ones in her hair and on her arms were gone. She looked a little confused by his hesitancy, but he gave a tired rub of his eyes and yawned, and it seemed like it was enough to satisfy her.

Looking down again, he saw all her arts and crafts scattered across the table, a scrapbook propped up in the center of the chaos. He spotted a picture of the pair of them with Wendy and Soos. It made him wonder where they were for a moment - before remembering that it was a Sunday and the shack wasn't open.

God, he was so out of sync today.

Getting dressed had been the worst part of the day so far - particularly putting his socks on. Every time he'd tried lifting up a leg to put a sock on, he'd drifted upwards towards the ceiling. At first, he'd panicked, lowered himself back to the floor, tried pulling his sock on again, risen up again, and them continued to repeat the same thing for another thirty or so minutes. Finally, he'd just given up and left himself drift and spin around in the air slowly while he'd jammed his socks and shoes onto his feet.

If anyone else were to walk in, he had no idea what he would have done.

"The ones with Stan's hair in them, or the ones shaped like his face?" He finally asked her, raking a hand through this messy bed head.

"Stan hair."

His nose scrunched up in disgust. "No thank you. I prefer my pancakes hair follicle free."

Mabel snorted. "Pfft," she laughed, smacking his back. "I'm kidding. We're all gonna go to the diner."

"Thank god," he said with a relieved breath.

"Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford are already waiting in the car," she said.  _Read; death trap._  "So get your butt into gear and lets go!" She jumped up out of her seat, yellow glitter puffing off of her seat as she stood. Her skirt was covered in the same bright yellow glitter.

He stared at the yellow remnants, his face slowly turning sour.

The color yellow, he decided, was evil.

"Hurry  _up,_ Dipper!"

Turning his head in Mabel's direction, he stood carefully. eyes falling to his feet again. Slowly he walked over to her. She grinned a huge smile, giving him a hard but playful nudge. He jolted backwards, feeling his feet lift off of the floor slightly. His eyes widened a little with alarm, before he calmed himself and settled back onto the floor. Mabel didn't seem to notice, her back turned to him as she threw open the door and raced out to the car. He felt a puff of air release from his gut, and swallowed thickly.

Dipper could see Stan and Stanford arguing inside the car. It didn't look like a serious fight. It looked like a playful fight - like the ones he and Mabel had. And...honestly? It surprised him. Stanford wasn't a joker - definitely wasn't a joker. He was the silent type, definitely unstable (or at least, he used to to be, if his journals were anything to go by), and from what Dipper could feel, full of judgement and knowledge.

As Dipper slid into his seat and the little argument stopped, his thoughts shifted to the what ifs.

What if Stanford noticed something was odd with Dipper? What if he somehow found out Bill was teaching him magic?

No way, in any universe, would that go down well.

Most of all though, it was the question of their relationship that bothered him. If he found out, or guessed, or even became a little bit suspicious of him, the little kindle of a relationship they had started to build would crumble into ash.

If he found out, or guessed, or even became a little bit suspicious of him, he would tell Grunkle Stan, and Grunkle Stan would react less than promisingly.

If he found out, or guessed, or even became a little bit suspicious of him, he might tell Mabel, and Mabel would...Mabel would...

_...what would Mabel do?_

That was a path that only led to bad thoughts.

_Won't you just stop thinking for one second, brain, and enjoy the fact that we're happy and nothing is being destroyed and-_

His stomach jolted as the car rocketed forward. Mabel laughed, smacking her face against Grunkle Stan's seat. "Woohoo, Grunkle Stan!" She laughed.

"The Stanley mobile never fails to impress," Stanley said, voice smug. Stanford scoffed, shaking his head as if he was scolding a child.

"I wanna cool car with a cool name! Like...like the Mabel Train! Choo Choo!" Mabel exclaimed excitedly, pumping her fist into the air.

"With a special Waddles seat," Dipper added.

"Of course, DipDop, what kind of Momma would I be if my baby didn't have somewhere for his needs!"

"Mabel, that's just weird."

"Isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Is."

"Isn-"

"Will you two cut it out? We're already here," Stan cut across Dipper.

The youngest pair of twins poked their tongues out at each other, before opened their doors and sliding out of their seats.

For a moment, Dipper almost forgot about his little problem - almost. Amongst the light atmosphere, it was easy to ignore the fact that he didn't have to walk anymore. He'd caught the way he almost didn't touch the ground as he shut the door to the old car, and managed to only just save himself from his little slip up.

Shaking out his arms, he started towards his family, joining Mabel as they entered the diner.

His stomach growled as the smell of bacon and pancakes tickled his senses.

Today, he decided, despite the complications, was a good day.

* * *

Night, on the other hand, was  _not._

All Dipper wanted to do was stay up and not sleep and just cram cola can after can down his throat.

But Bill was expecting him at 10 pm.

If he didn't show...

Dipper gnawed on his lip as he shifted around in his bed to look at the time, shutting the book in his hands. 9:30 pm. Glancing over, he saw Mabel cuddling Waddles in her arms, oinking at him as if he was going to reply to her with something she understood. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them again. His head screamed at him not to fall asleep - that he needed to stay awake or he was going to regret it.

But Mabel was oinking at the pig and she was happy and she wasn't dead, or being swallowed by flame. It was enough for him to gather up all of bravery, turn off his lamp, and then settle down to sleep.

He heard Mabel shift. "Night, bro bro."

"Night, Mabes."

His eyes closed, and he curled up under the covers, gripping them tight with his fingers.

Sleep, which had always alluded him, onset far too fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to pick up a bit more now! Thank you everyone for reading!  
> I have a tumblr! Send me an ask at http://filthymallards.tumblr.com


	8. Content

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the reviewer who asked me if this was gonna be BillDip. Nope. Not BillDip. It's not that I have anything against the pairing (I actually have a BillDip fic called Abacus) but no romance whatsoever between the pair (some of you will be happy to hear that, others not so much), but you know...insinuate whatever you want too!
> 
> Anyway, here it is, and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.

"Evening, Pine Tree!"

Dipper felt a finger jab into his arm, his eyes opening. For a minute he was confused, but then he straightened up. He was seated at the single desk, and Bill was hovering in front if him, his eye unblinking.

Dipper stared at him in silence, then burst out of his seat, hands planted firmly against his desk. "Why the hell am I floating, Bill! What did you  _do_  to me!" He shouted angrily.

Bill shrugged his arm lightly, chuckling. "Bet that was a surprise, eh?"

"I didn't know it was going to affect me when I was awake, too!"

"Hm. Not my problem."

Dipper clenched his teeth in a frustrated anger. He kicked aside his chair, arms crossed. He pointed at his floating feet.

"Fix this!"

"No can do, Pine Tree. You're stuck like this."

Dipper stared at him, horrified. "No. No no no. Fix it! You have to fix it!" His voice cracked in desperation.

"The only way I can help you is for you to learn to control it," Bill said.

Dipper stopped and thought for a few moments. Bill's eye turned into a clock, which ticked slowly but loudly while wagged his finger like the clock in a pendulum.

_Jerk._

A jerk who was probably the  _only one_  who could teach him how to control this magic.

"Fine. Okay. Teach me," he spit out bitterly.

The chair flicked back up, and Dipper was shoved back down into it, grunting when he was pushed in too tightly to the desk. A piece of chalk appeared in Bill's hand, and he cast a glance at Dipper.

"Shall we begin?"

* * *

The chalkboard was covered in diagrams, big and small, with directions on how to control what Bill had called the 'caelum step'. He had said that he hadn't been surprised at how quickly Dipper had gotten down the basics of the magic - being calm, relaxed, and being focused.

Dipper didn't know how to feel about that. Worried that Bill was speaking so highly of him, or prideful, because a super powerful demon was speaking so highly of him?

It was a predicament, for sure.

They started with letting him float around. Though Dipper would never admit it, he was starting to prefer floating than walking around. It was less taxing than walking around, and he hover higher or lower, depending on where he needed to go or wanted to get.

_Haha, Mabel, your one inch can suck it._

Slowly and surely, Bill taught him how to control the changes between standing and floating, and in the short span of sleep (that felt like hours, mind you), he'd mostly managed to master it, to a point where stronger emotions didn't force him upwards anymore.

Mostly.

When he felt particularly angry, or particularly prideful, he found he still shot back up into the air.

He'd realized this soon after Bill had praised his control, and he'd jolted upwards off of the ground and been forced to push himself back to the floor. He'd then preceded to stamp his foot on the floor, before being spit back upwards with a cry of outrage.

Right now, Dipper was hovering in the air with his arms crossed over his chest as Bill spun around him, tapping just under his eye thoughtfully. The pair were staring at each other (glaring in Dippers case) as Bill surveyed Dipper. Finally, the demon wrapped an arm around his neck, yanking him close and grabbing his hand. "Dipper, let's makes another deal."

"Hell. No," Dipper snapped, yanking away from Bill with his face screwed up.

Bill sighed. "Come on, kid, it won't even be that bad. I just want you to check up on something for me. Promise."

Dipper narrowed his eyes. "No."

"I'll say please."

"No!"

"Please?"

"N. O. No."

Bill huffed, laying back as images projected outwards from his eye like a slideshow. "Seriously kid, it's not even a big deal. If you go down East into the woods outside of your little shack, take a left at the Seeing Tree, and then down the slope towards the swimming hole, you'll find a stump," Bill explained, images projecting from his eye. He saw the shack, a tree with eyes scratched into the trunk, and then the swimming hole. Finally, an image of a large stump was projected. "I want you to count the age rings around it - you know what those are, right?"

"I'm not an idiot."

Bill rolled his eye. "You leave a lot to be desired sometimes, Pine Tree."

Dipper felt his feet tingle, but they didn't lift off of the floor. His mouth twitched into a frown of annoyance.

"I don't understand why you can't do it yourself."

"I want you to do it."

"But why  _me-_ "

"Because, kid, I know you aren't  _stupid_  enough to screw it up,  _or_  tell your sister. Right?"

Dipper tensed up slightly, knowing Bill was only saying it to get a rise out of him. This time, his feet  _did_  lift off of the ground. He shot a hateful glare at Bill. "Stop bringing her up."

"Then I presume we have a deal; you'll do this for me?" He offered his hand, and Dipper flinched back slightly as the cobalt blue lit up like a thousand suns. He allowed his eyes to adjust to the brightness of the flames, keeping his arms at his side. Finally, he let out an angry hiss of air between his teeth, offering up his own hand, and gripping Bill's. He supposed one more little deal couldn't hurt.

"We...we have a deal," he muttered.

Bill sniggered, eye flaring the blue of his fire, before he let go. He looked pleased.

_Smug son of a bitch._

Mabel would have had him by the ears if she were listening to his thoughts.

"Oh-ho-ho. You can learn,  _shorty!"_

"Shut up! I'm only thirteen."

"Still shor-"

_"I'm not short!"_

Bill waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah yeah yeah - oooh, what's this!" He picked up a wooden ball and cup game, trying and failing to get the ball in the cup. "Dang it."

Dipper's brow furrowed, reaching out towards Bill with frustration in his face. "Wait, Bill, wh-"

His world suddenly dissolved into the darkness of sleep.

The last thing he saw was an annoyed Bill snapping his fingers and the game bursting into flames.

* * *

Dipper shifted under the blankets on his bed, curling up tighter underneath them, before relaxing and opening his eyes. Slowly he sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Mabel was still asleep in her bed, mumbling something about hot vampires and...rainbow farts?

He did not. Want. To know.

He slid out of the bed, testing his feet on the floor.

No floating, and everything felt perfectly normal - that was good.

He shuffled around, grabbing a shirt and shorts, which he changed into in the closet.

Sitting down on his bed once he was dressed, he pulled some socks on, wiggling his toes in the soft fabric.

Mabel grunted at him, now facing him with her eyes opened, bleary with sleep. "Where ya goin?" She yawned.

"...Out?"

_Good, job, Dipper. Brilliant excuse. A+ for you._

"Out where?"

"Out...just out."

"Can I come?"

"Uh...wouldn't you rather go catch up with Grenda and Candy?"

Mabel huffed at him, sitting up in her bed and rubbing her eyes. "Well, now I  _have_  to come with you."

_Dammit._

"Uhm...well, I guess, if you want too."

He saw her open her mouth, and he knew it was to ask where they were going. His thoughts shot forward like a bolt of lightning. Quick quick, what could he tell her?

"Where are you goin' anyway, bro?"

"Well...there's this little swimming hole I read about in one of the books I borrowed from the Gravity Falls library this one time," he began, the lie spilling relatively confidently out of his lips. He would have been proud of himself if it were anyone but her he was telling it to. "So I wanted to go and see if I could find it. There were some directions, but they were kinda vague..."

Mabel grinned at him. He thanked his lucky stars that she actually bought it. "Swimming! Yes! It's so hot already, it's gonna be awesome!"

Dipper rubbed his neck, smiling awkwardly. "Yeah. Totally awesome," he agreed, stepping towards the door. "I'm just gonna go brush my teeth, okay?"

"Sure sure, bro bro!" Mabel said, waving him away as she got out of bed and looked at her different sweaters (why she insisted on wearing them in the heat, he didn't know).

He left the room, hands in his shorts pockets and headed into the bathroom with a long sigh. He grabbed his toothbrush, covering it in the creamy white paste, shoving the brush into his mouth and brushing his teeth slowly.

_How could I play this off...?_

Dipper didn't know. Mabel would think it was weird if he just started to investigate a random tree stump. It wasn't like he'd ever been interested in anything like that before. Was it possible that he could play it off as something that he'd seen in the journal his grandfather had written? The only thing that could go wrong was if Mabel mentioned it to him. So...would she deem it important enough to mention?

He let out a long puff of air.

God, this was so complicated. Why had he agreed to this?

Stupid Bill.

He dropped his toothbrush into the sink, sighing softly to himself. His shoulders dropped, his head down as his hands gripped the edges of the basin so hard his knuckles were going white.

It hurt. God, did it hurt.

He'd never... _lied_  to Mabel - not like this. Not even ever, really. He couldn't imagine what her face would look like if she ever found out what he was up to.

Dipper lifted his head, looking at himself.

He could read the self-deprecation on his face. He could see the hate, the anger, the disappointment, the betrayal...

He could see exactly how she would look at him if she found out.

_Stop trying to fool yourself, Dipper. It isn't a question of if. It's a question of when._

Bile rose in his throat.

He jumped when the door swung open and Mabel flounced inside, wearing a pink skirt and a yellow shirt with an orange sun and black sunglasses on the front.

Quickly, he settled his expression into one that looked more relaxed.

"Hey hey!" She said brightly, getting her toothbrush and dribbling toothpaste all over it. She started to fiercely brush her teeth.

Dipper smiled softly, sitting on the edge of the bath. "You look like you have rabies."

"Woof."

He laughed a little, shaking his head as he stood up. "Dork," he said as he headed for the door. "I'll be downstairs waiting, okay?"

"Sure."

He started to walk out the door, when she threw a bottle of Stan's shaving cream at him. "Oi."

"Yeah?"

"We're still the Mystery Twins, right? We're gonna be super sleuths again this summer?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "I don't know, Mabel. I don't have the book anymore." He looked around him, not looking at her. "I guess we'll figure that out if the time comes."

If. Ha.

"Yeah. I guess you're right," Mabel said, looking at him from in the mirror, her brush in her hand and her mouth frothy with toothpaste. Dipper smiled and nodded at her confidently.

"See you when you're done in here, eh?"

"Kay kay, Dip."

He turned and headed downstairs.

He really hoped this wasn't going to come back and bite him in the ass.

* * *

The crunch of dead leaves under his foot was all Dipper could hear in the forest, besides Mabel's breathing in his ear. They'd never explored this part of the forest before, and she was gripping the back of his shirt like they were going to get lost.

Trying to get her to stay home...hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped. Mabel had been very adamant about coming with him. They hadn't  _argued_ about itexactly, but there had definitely been some tension lingering between them. Mabel had gone to Stan and whined to him about how he was being unfair.

Dipper didn't want to fight with her - so he'd given in. Not to mention he didn't want anyone getting suspicious.

Stan had been fine with it - in fact, he seemed pretty happy with the idea of them leaving for the day.

Dipper presumed he and Stanford were doing something in their not-so-secret laboratory.

He didn't want to know.

He  _really_  wanted to know.

Thankfully though, neither Mabel nor Stan had asked him  _why_  he'd been so against bringing her, but he knew the question was on her mind (he wasn't so sure about Stan's - he seemed pretty preoccupied).

He didn't think Mabel would ask him though. She had a way of pushing her problems back into the little cavern in her head that belonged to her worries and fears.

"...past the tree, before the swimming hole..." He muttered softly to himself.

"What was that?" Mabel asked.

"Oh, nothing, just...it's so hot - I can't wait to get to the swimming hole."

"I know just what you mean, broseph."

"Heh. Yeah," he said, glancing back at her and smiling warmly.

Mabel stopped moving, staring up behind him, mouth dangling open.

Dipper came to a halt, turning his head to look where Mabel was gazing.

A huge birch tree stretched upwards towards the sky, it's trunk covered in knots shaped like eyes.

"Woah," he heard Mabel whisper. He echoed her reverence.

Bill was right about one thing - the tree could definitely see.

The tree...could see.

_The tree can see._

Dipper took a tentative step closer to the tree, touching the trunk. He brushed his hand over one of the knots.

_Is Bill watching me right now?_

His vision blurred, a strange feeling shooting through his gut. The skid of feet against the forest floor made him tense up, only realizing after a few seconds of silence that the footsteps were his own scrambling backwards from the tree.

"Dipper?" Mabel's voice was full of concern. Dipper spun around on his heels, staring at her with a confused expression written across his face. He shook his head, and blinked it away.

"I'm fine. Just...had a moment," he murmured. He grabbed the sleeve of her sweater, letting his hat hide the expression of worry on his face. He turned his back to her, moving past the tree with as much distance as he could get.

_Stop watching me._

His free hand twitched at his side, clenching it into a tight fist. No way was he gonna let Bill get to him.

* * *

Oh. Boy.

That was...this was...

The tree stump was...

"Uh..."

Huge.

The tree stump was huge.

In Bill's projection, it had seemed pretty average, but this was...

...not at all what he expected.

_Asshole. Making me do all his hard work._

It took him a good minute or two to walk around the diameter of the whole thing once. It was so big, that at first he hadn't even  _realized_  it was the tree stump Bill had mentioned. He and Mabel had gotten all the way down to the swimming hole before he'd decided to high tail it back the way they'd come, using the excuse that he didn't want to be around Mabel when she changed (even though he was pretty sure she'd put her bathing suit on underneath her skirt and sweater). It gave him just enough time to think of an excuse as to why he had to stay and count the rings on the tree.

He traipsed back through the bush silently, his back a little sweaty from the heat of the day.

He could have really gone for a dunk in that swimming hole right about now.

He dug around in his short pockets as he stood up on top of the tree trunk.

His head tilted a little to the side, his brows furrowing downwards.

Now that he actually  _looked_  at the tree root, he saw that...it wasn't even that  _old._ Considering the size of it, he knew it should have been hundreds of years  _at least._

"1, 2, 3..." He counted aloud to himself, walking across the stump as he counted the strangely thick lines. His brows furrowed as he finished counting the 31 lines, scratching his head.

"...that's it?" He muttered to himself. Surely it had to be more than that?

He dropped down to his knees atop the tree stump. It was oddly smooth under his knees, not covered in ridges and bumps like stumps normally were.

It was kinda comfy, actually.

He began to recount, because it didn't seem right to him.

A tree this big? With only thirty one rings?

After counting it another two times, and finding that  _no, he definitely had_ not _made a mistake,_  he decided to sit down properly on the tree stump, feet dangling off the side of it. He toed the green tufts of grass dotted along the brown forest floor with his shoes.

His palms, which had been pressed lightly to the smoothness of the tree, suddenly flattened rather forcefully against it.

There was that  _feeling_  again.

Now that he actually focused on it, his eyes closed, he noticed just how  _strong_  it was. Not strong, like a pull or a tug, but strong in the way it wrapped him up in its embrace, a wind of tantalizing whispers. He didn't know how to describe it, really - didn't know what to even call it, but he...he  _liked_  this feeling.

And it  _terrified_  him.

"Dipper!" Mabel shrieked behind him. He jumped a foot into the air, twisting around to look at her.

"Mabel!" His voice was startled, rising to a high squeak. He cleared his throat, feeling small blush of embarrassment rising in his cheeks, saying in a much deeper tone, "Uhm. You uh...you scared me."

She grinned at him, snorting a little. She was wearing her hot pink bathing suit with the bright yellow star across the front, and her light up sneakers with no socks.

Instead of teasing him, she just asked, "You comin'?"

"Er, yeah." He slid off the stump and fell into step with her as they headed back down towards the swimming hole.

She skipped off a few steps ahead of him, and he glanced backwards at the tree root.

 _Just what on earth does Bill_ want _with that information, anyway?_

Honestly, he wasn't sure if he even wanted to know.

* * *

"Mabel, no fair, I said no splashing!"

"All is fair in love and splash battles...TO THE DEATH!"

Dipper choked back a laugh as he shielded his face and closed his eyes from the onslaught of water that suddenly fired in his direction.

Just because he was being trained in the art of magic by a powerful dream demon who could probably slaughter millions of people if he wanted to or whatever, didn't mean he didn't enjoy trying to utterly destroy his sister in water wars from time to time.

"Ahck! Mabel!" He choked as she dunked him under water, before pulling him back up.

So far, he was doing a terrible job at utterly destroying her.

Mabel stared at him for a few moments, holding her breath for a few minutes, before making a sound very similar to a fart and shrieking with laughter. She swam away to the edge of the bank so she could collapse against it, pointing at him with tears in her eyes.

"Oh gosh, Dip! You look like a drowned rat!"

One of his eyebrows twitched. "Well, at least  _half_  of that statement is true."

"What, that you look like a rat?"

Dipper sent her a look that clearly showed just how unimpressed he was.

"I'm kidding!" She said with a snort, sweeping her hand through the water and splashing him again.

He shook out his hair, feeling droplets fly around him, before turning onto his back and swimming lazily in a circle.

He turned his face up towards the canopy in the trees. The hot sun filtered through the leaves, giving the little pool just the right amount of light amongst the shade. He couldn't see any clouds in the sky from this angle - in fact, he didn't even know if there  _were_  any clouds today.

He sighed softly, closing his eyes, listening to Mabel slashing around at the other end of the pool, dunking under the water and then splashing back upwards. He could feel the occasional water sprinkles fall across his face, but it didn't bother him.

He felt...content.

_When was the last time I felt like this?_

_Have I ever even felt like this before?_

His thoughts started to pull down, back towards the vacant area of himself that he reserved for his time in his dreams - that spot in him that fueled his anger and his hatred and his useless pride. That spot that he kept specifically for when he was in Bill's company.

This was all  _his_  fault.

If Bill...if Bill hadn't...if he hadn't taunted him...and  _forced_  him into making that  _stupid_  deal, he wouldn't be feeling like  _this._  Maybe, if Bill hadn't tormented him, he would have had a better chance of having a summer that was like today.

Dipper let out a puff of breath, feeling his hands tingling with anger.

Yeah. Like that was  _actually_  something that could happen in a place like Gravity Falls.

And Bill was the one to blame.

_Bill...why am I even doing this for that low-life, anyway?_

A pair of hands gripped his shoulders, shaking him out of his stupor.

_Oh. That's why._

Mabel beamed at him brightly. "We should probs go, bro," she said. "It's almost lunch time!"

He rolled over onto his front, nodding as he started to swim back to the edge of the swimming hole, climbing out. He shook out his hair as Mabel pulled a towel out of her sweater pocket.

Dipper suddenly felt like an idiot.

_Oh wow, Dipper, you must be a genius! You can't even remember to bring a towel with you._

He sighed, shaking his head as he pulled his shirt on.

_I am so going crazy._

He needed to stop talking to himself.

First sign of madness, right there.

_Ha. Bill'd be proud._

Just the thought alone left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Mabel wrapped the towel around herself, stuffing her feet into her shoes. Dipper pulled his socks onto his wet feet, then stuffed his feet into his sneakers.

Maybe I shouldn't be thinking about Bill right now.

Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in slowly.

Good job, Dipper. Just relax. Forget about the goddamn Dorito.

He glanced up when Mabel started walking away, tugging at his dryish shirt sleeve to get him to follow.

"Hurry up, Dipper! I'm huuuuungrrrrrryyyyyyy!" A grin bloomed across her face.

A smile softened his harsh expression.

Dealing with Bill, all of a sudden, didn't seem so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8 done! It won't be long before we start really getting into the meat of the story - so be prepared! Hopefully you'll all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it!
> 
> Thanks for reading and reviewing, as always!


	9. Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.

"Heh. Long time no see, Pine Tree," Bill said, sweeping around him and tapping his head with his cane. Dipper winced every time Bill bopped him on the head.

"I saw you last night."

"I saw you today."

Dipper glanced up at him, scowling with annoyance. "So you  _were_  watching me."

Bill rolled his eye. "Well, of course I was! Had to make sure you were doing your job, kid."

Dipper slid into his seat at the desk, resting his elbows on the wooden surface and using his hands to prop up his head. His eyes watched Bill as the demon crossed his long black legs, hands atop his cane. His large eye narrowed down at Dipper.

"You did do it, right?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't know why you couldn't just do it yourself."

Bill waved a hand lazily, dismissing Dipper's offhand curiosity.

"How many rings were there."

For a few moments, Dipper considered not saying anything, or lying to Bill about how many rings there actually was.

_What if he's testing you? What if he's just making sure your acting like a good proper little servant?_

Dippers eyebrows drew down, but he resisted the temptation to scowl.

"Ten."

Bill nodded, like he wasn't surprised by the number. He clapped his hands, and the insides of an animal that Dipper couldn't pick landed on his desk.

"Here's a duck for ya, kid. You did good."

_Gross...that's just...gross._

But, even so - encased in his disgust - he could feel the faintest semblances of pride - enough to make his feet tingle a little, though he didn't lift out of his seat.

Dipper shook his head to rid himself of the feeling.

"Say, Pine Tree, how would ya feel learning something a little different today?"

"Huh?"

Bill pointed towards the blackboard, snapping his fingers. Images started to project onto it. "Like the history of Gravity Falls, perhaps."

Dipper turned his head from the blackboard to Bill, a smile winning its way past the disgust on his face. "Really?" He asked excitedly, voice rising up to a squeak. He cleared his throat. "Uhm, I mean...I guess you could show me, if that's cool or whatever..."

Bill twisted around to look at the blackboard as Dipper stood up from his seat, moving around the desk and up to the blackboard next to him His eyes were bright with wonder, and he could feel even more powerful tingles in his feet from the sudden rush of feelings, He didn't bother to check if he was still touching the floor - he knew he wasn't.

Images on the blackboard began to appear. He saw Quentin Trembley founding the town, saw it being settled, and watched the occasional run-in with the local magic folk in the woods. The images started to run together, moving faster and faster and faster until everything was just a blur, but he could still  _see_  everything that was going on and it was too much it was too much  _it was too much!_

He collapsed to the floor, clutching at his head. Pain pulsed through his skull, like someone was belting out at it with a hammer. He could distantly hear screaming over the banging in his brain.

_...Is that me?_

He curled tightly into a ball, rocking back and forth on the floor and pulling at his hair.

_Make it stop._

_Make it stop._

_MAKE IT STOP._

Overhead, he heard Bill give a chuckle. His snarky voice boomed even louder than the pain rushing through his head - if that was possible. "Heh. Whoops. I forget - you humans can only take so much at once."

"Make it stop. Bill,  _please._  It hurts. _It hu-urts."_

Dipper felt a hand touch the top of his head. "I'm sure it'll be  _fine,_ Pine Tree," Bill dismissed, giving the traumatized kid a condescending pat. "See you next time, eh?"

* * *

"...per! Dipper, wake up!"

A pair of arms were shaking him violently, repeating his name his ear - screaming his name in his ear.

His eyes shot open, and he sucked in a gasp of air, as if he had just been drowning and had come up for air.

Mabel was standing next to him in her floppy disk nightgown, a hand over her mouth and her eyes shut tight. Dipper couldn't focus on her - his vision kept going in and out. Stan's hands were wrapped tightly around his shoulders, his constant jerking coming to a halt. Stanford was hovering at the end of the bed, looking a little disoriented with sleep, but with Journal 3 open in his hands.

"...Mabel? What's..." He rubbed at his eyes, shifting himself into a better sitting position. His throat felt scratchy, and it hurt to speak. "...what's going on?"

She threw her arms around him, punching him in the arm.

Ow. That hurt.

"Dumb dumb! You scared me half to death!"

"...Eh?"

Stanley and Stanford shared a look.

"Kid...Uh...You were being pretty vocal in your sleep," Stan said, letting go of Dipper's shoulders.

"I could hear you screaming from my room downstairs," Stanford added, closing the Journal. "Are you alright now?"

Dipper swallowed, rubbing his throat. Memories flashed through his head, and he let out a groan, his shoulders slumping, forehead falling against the back of Mabel's.

"I feel...not so good," he admitted.

"What were you dreaming about?" Mabel asked into his shirt, fingernails digging into his back as she clutched into him. He tried not to wince.

"I..." He rubbed his head. "I don't remember."

Stanford sighed, looking at the time. 4:30 am.

Dipper watched him as he stood up. "You sure you don't remember?" He asked.

_Does he know I'm lying?_

_No. No, he doesn't._

"I'm sure...it's just...black. I don't..." He let out a hiss, like it was hurting him to remember (which it kind of was, to be fair. Even so, he was kinda proud of his acting skills).

Grunkle Stan let out an even longer sigh. "Well, look, Dipper, just relax, okay? Stay awake, go back to sleep, do whatever makes you feel better." He scratched his backside. "I need a drink," he muttered as he walked out of the room.

Dipper watched him go, knowing that this wasn't the type of situation Grunkle Stan was used to dealing with.

His attention was drawn away by Stanford sitting down on the bed.

"Dipper. I want you to have this."

Dipper didn't even have to look at the book to know Stanford was offering it to him. His eyes widened with surprise, mouth opening a little. "You want to...to give it back to me? But...but it's yours..."

"Stanley told me how attached to it you were. I've been...mulling it over for quite some time now. But you've grown far more fond of it than I ever have. Take it. It's yours now." He dropped the book next to Dipper on the bed before getting up.

Dipper felt his hand twitch out to grab it, gripping the book tight and putting it on his knee between Mabel and himself.

"H-hey, uhm...Great Uncle Ford?"

Stanford blinked at him, and Dipper gave him a tired, but happy smile. "Thank you."

He just nodded, leaving the room. The door closed behind him.

Silence stretched between him and Mabel.

Finally, she let go of him, wiping at her eyes, though she hadn't shed any tears (he didn't know what he would have done if she'd actually cried - probably spilled everything that he and Bill had been up to in the last few weeks).

"Dipper?"

"Yeah, Mabes?"

"Why are you lying to us?"

Dipper felt himself freeze.

Not good. Definitely not good. He swallowed the lump in his throat, ducking his head to pick at a loose thread on his blanket.

"It's not that I'm lying...I just don't want you guys to be worried is all," he said softly, mouth bitter with lies as he pulled out the thread, watching the fabric around it scrunch up tight until he ripped it out.

"Of course we worry, Dipper! It's only-"

"It was a _dream,_  Mabel. Just a bad dream. I can't even remember what it was about." He found himself looking her dead in the eyes, his face firm with seriousness. "Why would I lie to you, Mabel, if it was something serious?"

Mabel slowly smiled at him, her shoulders slumping with relief. "You wouldn't."

"Of course not. What type of person do you think I am, Mabel?" He asked rhetorically.

She beamed at him, giving him a nudge. "You're the good kind. Duh."

_The good kind._

The smile that he'd pressed onto his face almost slipped.

His eyes fell on their triangular window, on the stars twinkling outside of it, at the trees swaying in the light breeze.

And he couldn't help but  _wonder._

_What type of person am I?_

* * *

_Boogieman._

_Squirrtula._

_Leprechaun._

Dipper sighed, shutting Journal 3. Nothing.

He'd been searching the book for a good four or five hours. He'd read it cover to cover, back to front, with the black light and without the black light. He'd gone through every cipher he understood, and tried to work out how valuable each code was to him at the moment.

He was honestly questioning his Great Uncle Ford's sanity, what with everything he'd written in it.

Oh well. Dipper was as sane as he was - you had to be half mad to make a deal with a demon, after all, right?

Either way - Dipper hadn't found a single thing to help him figure out what had been going on with him lately. This weird...feeling? Sensation? Whatever it was...it had been following him around for the last few days. Journal 3 felt tainted in it - not...covered...not like the tree stump and the tree covered in eyes had...almost like it had been  _stained_  in whatever this stuff was.

Dipper couldn't see it, he couldn't hear it, he couldn't smell it, he couldn't even feel it, really. Not in a 'touching' way. It really was just a  _feeling._

Sometimes, if he tried hard enough, it was like he could almost taste it. Around the Journal, it tasted salty and sour.

_Impure._

When he and Mabel had accidentally crossed paths with a rank 1 ghost (which he had promptly named 'Casper'), it had tasted like cotton candy and the coldness of fog.

_Inbetween._

When he had exorcised the ghost, the feeling had been abnormally strong. It had rushed through his whole body, consuming his thoughts, consuming his entire mind with a rush that he didn't even know how to  _begin_  to describe. He had tasted the stars, he had tasted rotten blood.

_Imprisoned._

And now that he thought back on it, after making the deal with Bill it had always...been there. Even further back than that, in fact. Subtle. Unnoticeable, steadily growing over time. Only after Bill had tried to drown him in his own dreams did it really start to become stronger.

He had an inkling as to what this...this sensation was, but he just wasn't sure if he was right. How was he supposed to test his theory?

_Maybe I should just ask Bill. He'd tell me...right? Would he be honest and just say it?_

Dipper lay back on his bed, staring at the roof.

Could he even trust Bill?

No. That was a stupid question. Of course he couldn't trust Bill.

He turned his head slightly, listening to the others moving downstairs. He could hear them laughing downstairs, playing poker. Mabel had asked him if he wanted to play, but poker wasn't really his thing.

Dipper mustered a smile to himself.

At least they were happy.

At least they were safe, and-

A sharp pain laced through his skull and he let out an equally as sharp cry, clutching at his head as he rolled off of the bed and to the floor.

_"Gravity."_

_"Twelve."_

_"Not."_

_"Falls."_

_"Monsters."_

_"Safe."_

_"Bill."_

_"Demon."_

_"Magic."_

_"Safe."_

_"Cipher."_

_"Key."_

_"No."_

_"One."_

_"Trust."_

_"No"_

_"One."_

_"Magic."_

_"Falls."_

_"Falling."_

_"Falling."_

_"Falling."_

Dipper muffled his cries of pain in his arm, not wanting to alert the others. Memories filtered through his mind that weren't his own, memories of just watching and waiting. Memories of blue-flamed fires. Memories of crimson red stains splattering against the ground. Memories, memories, memories. His brain felt like it was being crushed under the amount of them that raced through his head.

And then the pain ebbed away.

Slowly, Dipper pulled himself up into a sitting position on the floor, coughing and spitting blood out of his mouth and onto the wooden floorboards as he breathed raggedly.

_Dammit. Should have thought about that first. Now I have to clean it up._

Pressing his hands against the floor, he pushed himself up, stumbling a little bit before readjusting himself. He closed his eyes, rubbing them to get rid of the last inkling of pain in his head.

Padding over to the window on slightly wobbly feet, he looked at himself.

It was the third attack he'd had, after the first one the other day, and he'd been really lucky that he hadn't been caught by any of the others while he'd been in the middle of one. He'd had a few close calls, but had managed to escape to the bathroom both times.

He looked a little better than he usually did after having a fit, though his eyes were red with pain and his scalp felt sore. When he looked down, he saw his nails were embedded with blood.

Usually, he looked a lot worse - but he didn't want to think about that.

Turning away from the window and heading over to his bed, he leaned over and pulled his hat on over his head and down to hide his eyes, and then shoved his hand in the pockets of his shorts to hide his bloody nails.

He snuck downstairs, cursing Bill for leaving him like this. He didn't know how to contact the demon (not that he'd tried), who hadn't visited him since he'd seen the history of Gravity Falls - memories that he couldn't even really focus on anymore. Memories he didn't understand, could only catch glimpses of.

The last few days had been needlessly  _hard._

If Bill could just...just help him settle the memories, teach him how to reign them in, he wouldn't be getting some many looks from his family, as if they were  _waiting_  for him to wake up screaming again.

_Like I'm breakable._

Dipper scoffed, hands clenching into fists in his shorts as he slipped into the bathroom downstairs. He thought he saw Mabel glance at him as he passed the doorway that led to the kitchen.

Dipper shouldered open the ajar bathroom door, closing it behind him with his foot and then locking it.

He felt his feet lift into the air an inch or so, rolling his shoulders and getting a satisfying click in response. He took his cap off, leaning closer into the mirror and looking at his fluffy brown hair. Sore, but he hadn't ripped any of his hair out this time.

That was a bonus.

He turned the faucet on, scrubbing his hands and under his fingernails clean of blood, watching the red drizzle through the plug hole, down the drain with the water.

Dipper turned the faucet off and moved away from the sink with a sigh. It was only lunch time, but he felt exhausted.

He rubbed his eyes and looked in the mirror again.

_What...? Why does everything look different?_

His back suddenly jolted straight and he looked around quickly, spinning around towards the door.

His surroundings had drained into black and white.

"Hey, Pine Tree, ya miss me?"

The glowing yellow demon hovered lazily in the air, watching him from where he floated. Dipper glanced up at him, feeling himself rise higher so he was the same height as Bill.

"What the hell, Bill!" He snapped angrily. "What the hell did you to me!" Why did he always repeat himself around Bill?

"C'moooon, Dipper, admit it! You missed me!"

Dipper felt a scowl spreading across his face. "Fuck you, Bill."

Bill tutted. "Pine Tree, you shock me! Language like that at your age. I would have expected something a little more impressive." He gave Dipper a nudge with his elbow. "I'll teach ya some great swears one day - maybe the one that rips out fingernails? That's always a fun one."

Dipper cringed at the imagery that flashed through his head.

"No, tell me what's going on! Why do the memories hurt so much? Why do I feel so  _weird_  and why does everything feel funny _?"_

Bill looked intrigued by that. "Oh-ho, Pine Tree, you really  _are_  the perfect servant, you know!"

"What?"

"You're the perfect servant, student, whatever! So many questions in that little brain of yours, so many dreams and fears. Though not of that red-head anymore. Too old for you, eh?" Bill laughed as the bathroom started to churn back into their little study room. Dipper felt heat rising in his cheeks, and grunted when he felt the air twist around him, shoving him down into the chair.

"Well, kid, to answer your first question," Bill began, sitting on the edge of the desk, making a lazy gesture with his hand. "It's cause your tiny human head can't take so much information at once. Your mind is trying to protect you by only letting so much in at once. Heh, last time I gave someone the secrets of the universe their head exploded. Can you believe that?"

"Unfortunately, I can."

Bill rest an arm on Dipper's shoulder, and Dipper cringed away, nose scrunching up. He hated how jovial Bill acted around him, as if they were  _friends._

"Trust me, Pines, that won't happen to you. You're much more attuned to magic."

"And what makes you think that?"

"I'm all knowing, kid!"

Dipper narrowed his eyes, frowning. "You can't be all knowing. If you were, you wouldn't have had to sneak into my uncle's head to steal that combination," he said.

Bill didn't seem pleased by Dipper's accusation, eye pulsating red for a moment.

"Watch your tongue, Pine Tree," he said, his long black arm turning into a dark pair of scissors and snapping at his face before returning to its usual length. "Or you might lose it."

Dipper glared at Bill, but backed off the claim.

"I have eyes in many places, kid But...admittedly...there are gaps in my vision. Places that have been hidden from me." Bill snorted, jabbing Dipper's forehead. "Or at least there used to be."

"You haven't answered my other question. What makes me the perfect s-servant?"

Even  _saying_  that word disgusted him.

Bill sniggered. "It's  _magic,_ Pine Tree! What'd you think it was?" He paused, then broke out into all out laughter. "Oh! You thought it was  _me?_   _Please,_  kid, I have better things to do than sit around and watch you and your family all day. Things to do, plans to initiate and all that."

Dipper pursed his lips. "I only half thought it was you," he argued defensively. "I mean, what did you expect?"

"Too much of you evidently."

He made a low noise of annoyance.

"So it's magic?" He asked.

"That's what I said."

Dipper slumped down into his seat, thinking hard. The answer only brought up more questions. Finally, after debating with himself for a few minutes, he looked back up at Bill.

"So...I'm feeling magic?" His voice was slow. "And...you picked me because...because I have...have what? A magic core or something?"

The demon snorted with laughter.  _"Magic core._  You've been reading too many books. No. You have a high  _tendency_  towards magic - abnormally so. It's why you have so many run ins with the supernatural - and it's been slow growing for a long long time, kid. I'm just a catalyst to your ability to utilize it."

_Like gas on a fire._

"Why doesn't Mabel have the same?"

"I think you've asked enough questions for today, Pine Tree, and I'm kinda bored. Why don't we talk more sometime soon. In the mean time, I want you to do something for me; read up on your journal. That's right, I know you've been given it back. Memorize it, review  _every_  creature in the book, and then write up your own version of it. Don't let anyone else see it, got it?"

"Why?" Dipper asked suspiciously.

"I'm sure you'll realize eventually, kid. Don't forget - swearing is cathartic!"

"Wait, wha-"

* * *

Dipper bolted upright at the sound of knocking on the door, hitting the back of his head against the bottom of the sink.

 _"Son of a bitch!"_  He shouted, clutching the painful area, his eyes squeezed shut.

He didn't know if he was swearing at Bill, or at the sink for being in the way.

Stumbling up, he went to go unlock the door, throwing it open. "What the fuck do you- Wendy?"

The red-head was leaning against the wall. "Hey Dipper, finally done in there? I need to go clean Mabel Juice off of my hands. Never am I ever going near that blender again." She indicated towards the kitchen where Mabel and Stanley were cleaning up the blender in the sink.

"...right." Dipper said.

"You okay, man? You look a little out of it."

"Uhm, yeah, I fell asleep for a little in there, is all."

"Ooh, no wonder. I've been knocking for like, the last twelve hours."

"No exaggeration?"

"Absolutely none." She gave a wolfish grin, punching his arm. "Better not let Mabel catch you swearing, dude. She'll like, totally have you for that."

He shrugged. "Whatever. It's cathartic." He searched his mind for a good excuse to leave, eyes drifting towards the stairs. He just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts for a while.

"Uh, you should probably get your hands cleaned up. Tell Mabel and the others I'm going to bed, would you?"

Wendy was giving him an odd look. "You don't, like, wanna go out and be a super sleuth or something?"

"Not particularly," he said, foot touching the first step leading back upstairs.

"Well, dude, if you're sure...I mean, we should totally do it again. Being mystery nerds is pretty awesome."

Dipper felt the most annoying surge of annoyance. Why wouldn't she just leave him alone?

_Wow, that's definitely not something you've ever associated with Wendy before. Good job Dipper, you've successfully switched relationship_ _spectrum_ _._

He blamed Bill, because well, it totally made sense to criticize the demon who was probably laughing at how uncomfortable he was right now.

Dipper twitched.

_Asshole._

"Thanks, Wendy, but no thanks." He paused midway up the stairs, turning to look at her. "But I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Uhm. Sure, Dipper..."

He traipsed the rest of the way up the stairs, feeling her eyes scrutinizing him the whole way up. He thought he heard Mabel asking for him as he closed the door to their bedroom, but thought nothing of it. If it was important, she'd have already bugged him about it.

His eyes feel on the blood on the floor, half dried.

Dammit. He'd forgotten to grab the washcloth from the bathroom.

Picking up a shirt, he threw it over top of the stain.

_Good plan, Dipper. Leave the very obvious stain in the middle of the floor and hope no one notices. Forget that A+, you're going for an A++ because you are such a freaking genius._

Dipper shrugged his shoulders to himself and sat down on the bed, sliding Journal 3 towards him.

Time to get started, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's funny how I can so willingly do this to my favorite character. Someone please take Dipper away from me before I crush him into a million tiny pieces.
> 
> And as always, thanks for reading and reviewing! If you happen to have a question regarding the story and where it is going, feel free to ask and I will try to answer without giving anything away!


	10. Fluctuate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to say here!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.

"Hey dude, watcha doin?"

Dipper glanced across the gift shop at Soos, who was fixing the cash register (or trying to).

"Not much...just going out. Mabel's setting up for her sleepover with Candy and Grenda, so I don't particularly want to stick around."

Soos shivered. "Last time they put make-up on me."

Dipper was kinda surprised the man-child remembered the last time they were in Gravity Falls. Soos wasn't exactly the smartest guy out there, after all.

"And that's exactly why I'm escaping while I can. Have fun, Soos."

He twisted the doorknob, leaving the gift shop before Soos could get another word in.

The door shut behind him with a small click, and he let out a slow breath of relief, relaxing against the wall. The smell of the trees was enough to stifle the claustrophobic, off putting taste of the false magic that exuded from below in the underground lab. He'd started noticing it a few days after his latest meeting with Bill. The stench was indescribable. It made him want to vomit, and he couldn't escape it when he was in the house. It was everywhere, but infinitely worse around the vending machine.

He made an active effort to avoid it.

 _Outside,_  however, was a different matter entirely. Outside, he could sense the magic wrapping around everything, twisting and tugging him towards the forest - and follow he did. It was enticing, delicious, and he didn't know how he could have ever gone so long without  _feeling_  this.

Was it bad, how good he felt surrounded by it?

Probably.

Did he care?

Not one single bit.

A small laugh slipped from his lips, but he was quick to stifle it. It wouldn't bode well for him if people thought he was going mad.

_I've totally gone mad._

_...Ugh. This wasn't how I expected to spend the summer._

Dipper made sure he had both journal 3 (though he could taste the impurity of its magic against his tongue and didn't  _really_  have to) as well as his own notebook (which tasted of nothing at the moment) before jumping down the steps and heading off towards the woods.

The easiest creatures to speak to first, by far, were the fairies.

From reading the journal, he noticed they were mostly placate creatures, were easy to talk to (if they were treated respectfully), and if he needed to escape quickly, lavender got them  _extremely high._

His mouth twitched into a grin, unable to force his imagination away.

 _I_ so _should have brought some lavender with me._

He could sense their magic close by, tasting of grass and pine needles and blooming flowers, and began to duck under and around trees and branches as quietly as he could, his grin fading from his face into a more serious expression.

After a good few minutes of walking he came across a clearing that positively blossomed with mushrooms and toadstools and flowers. Small - no,  _tiny_  - creatures danced back and forth among the plants.

Dipper bent down where he stood. "Excuse me. I'd like to speak to you all." He kept his voice quiet, but let it carry.

Wings beat the air around him, the curious creatures investigating him. He didn't move an inch, just let them hover around him. He had to fight a sneeze off when a wing tickled his nose.

"What do you want to speak with us about human?" One of the fairies asked. Her voice was squeaky and high, her wings buzzing quickly as she hovered at eye level.

He held up his hand and she settled on it. "I am writing a book," he told her. He reached into his vest and took out his notebook and the pen clipped to it, setting them gently on the grown so they didn't cause a wind that would knock the fairies around. "To replace this one." He retrieved journal 3 and set it carefully beside the notebook.

The fairies all started to speak at once, moving away from journal 3.

"That book feels nasty, human." The fairy in his hand squeaked.

"I know. I have come to realize that a lot of the information that has been documented inside was largely unmoderated by the magical folk that have been written about, I want to change that," Dipper said. He felt...odd. The words he was speaking were definitely his own, but...since when had had thought all of this?

_Man. Magic is doing weird things for me._

Maybe that was why Bill had wanted him to read journal 3 so thoroughly - so he could understand  _why_  it felt wrong to him.

_Bill, you sneaky bastard._

"You are a strange human. I have never spoken to a human who understands this before. You have our gratitude, human."

"Please, call me Dipper."

The fairies started to dance around each other, a few landing on the brim of his hat. He knew from some of the information he'd found online (because the internet was a  _very_ reliable resource, especially about supernatural things) that giving up him name (the one he was most identifiable with, anyway) was a huge show of trust and respect.

"Deerper."

He almost laughed at the way the fairy said it (but held it back because he would totally ruin this whole thing if he did).

"Close enough." He said with a smile, holding out his pinky finger. The fairy grabbed it with both fingers and shook it.

"What would you like to know, Deerper?"

"Everything you are willing to tell me."

The fairy buzzed, glancing at her companions, who were all seated on either Dipper's hat and shoulders.

"You feel funny, Deerper. Not a good funny and not a bad funny. A magic funny. We will tell you much, if you are willing to stay with us until the sun falls."

This, so far, was going far better than Dipper could have every expected.

And he hadn't once thought about them being high on lavender.

_...Goddammit._

He bit his lip, his chest jolting as he held in a giggle.

"I would be very much willing," he finally said, the warmth in his voice  _totally not_  coming from the fact that he was laughing his ass off inwardly. "And if there is anything else you wish to know about myself or human life, feel free to ask and I will do my best to answer."

The fairy in his hand gave a little nod.

"Well...where do we begin?"

* * *

The sun was beginning to set in the sky, and many of the fairy had begun to fall asleep atop his hat and on his shoulders. He'd filled in at least a quarter of his notebook already, sketches included. At this rate, when he actually got to writing his own journal, it would be ten times as thick as grandfathers.

But he didn't mind, not when it involved getting so much information from such amazing creatures.

His mind had been opened - in a different way to how Bill had opened it. He wasn't stuck only knowing what was in journal 3. He was gaining his own pool of knowledge and understanding.

Not to mention he wasn't rolling around on the floor and ripping out his hair, this way.

Which...kinda made him wonder. He hadn't had an attack today - which was awesome and all, just strange.

Maybe it was because he was surrounded by magic? Bill had said it was his kind protecting him by only letting in small rises at a time, but what if it was something else as well?

Dipper sighed. He could really only theorize.

The fairy in his hand gave a yawn, stretching.

"It is time for us to sleep, Deerper." The fairy said. "We thank you very much for letting us consent to your writings. We thank you for your patience. We thank you for speaking to us about your own customs and life."

Dipper held his hand out next to a toadstool, which she sat down upon.

"Uh..." He raised his eyes upward to his hat, and then down to the sleeping fairies on his vest. He carefully took his vest off, holding it with his palms beneath the fairies so there was something solid beneath them, then placed it gently on the ground.

Next, he placed his fingers under his cap and pulling it off from the back so he didn't disturb the fairies on the brim. He placed the cap beside his vest before standing up as quietly as he could with his books.

The fairy he'd placed on the toadstool rubbed her eyes.

"Deerper. May I speak my name to you?"

Dipper blinked in surprise. "You would tell me?"

She nodded.

"Please, then, if you would! I would be honored."

The fairy made a soft whistling noise with her mouth. Dipper echoed it to the best of his ability, and she gave an odd little giggle, covering her mouth. "...close enough."

He smiled. "Can I see all of you again when I have written the book?"

"Come see us again whenever you like!"

He laughed softly, feeling pure joy rush through him. He felt...accepted among them. Their kindness was remarkable - their magic even more so.

"I will. Thank you so much!" He called softly as he started to duck back through the trees, waving at the fairy, who waved back as he disappeared through the trees.

Dipper hugged his notebook and the journal close to his chest as he walked, ignoring the occasional whips and cuts the trees gave his arms as he passed by them.

After a good while of silence, he opened his mouth to take a breath, swallowing the magic that sung through the forest. He felt a laugh fill up his gut.  _Man,_  it tickled. He had to lean against a tree because his legs suddenly felt like jelly.

Heh. Imagine that. Jelly legs.

_Jelly legs._

Dipper sniggered, then giggled, then laughed -  _really_  laughed. It peeled from his mouth in high hysterics, echoing through the trees and sending a pair of birds flying away from their nests. He collapsed to his knees and dropped his things, unable to stand any longer. He wiped tears from his eyes, the grin he wore threatening to break his face as he took in deep ragged breaths of air.

"Jelly legs. That's  _crazy,_ " he muttered to himself, snorting as he used the tree to push himself back up. He stood there for a few more minutes, before collecting his items back up and continuing on.

He inhaled deeply as he walked, stopping only when a foul sensation crowded over him. He scrunched his face up. He could sense that off putting...off putting  _shit_  (really there was no other way to describe it) that exuded from the Mystery Shack - could see the building just through the edge of the trees. His jaw twitched, and he felt a scowl cross his face, shoulders slumping slightly.

He  _hated_  it.

If he actually thought about it, his reaction to the Shack was pretty worrisome, but...it just felt so  _wrong._ It didn't have the same...same  _beat_  as the other types of magic he had encountered. It was out of time, too slow, too  _forced._  He wanted to be with the warmth, the music, the  _embrace_  that he experienced out in the woods.

Dipper shook his head to clear his thoughts, and continued on up to the steps of the Mystery Shack, pushing open the door to the gift shop.

"Hey, Dipper."

"Hey Grunkle Stan."

His great uncle was giving him a confused look, a hammer in his hand, a half broken plane of glass on the table top.

More 'crystals' for sale then. Great.

"You look different," Stan said.

Dipper tipped his head to the side. "Huh?" He blinked, shifting his books in his hand and making sure his notebook was hidden behind journal 3. "Oh, uh, I lost my hat and stuff down at the swimming hole," he lied. "I dunno where they went. Gnomes took them, probably. They're pretty weird like that."

Stan gave a non-committal grunt. "Your sister and her friends are in the living room."

Dipper laughed dryly, heading out of the gift shop. "Thanks for the warning."

"Hey, and make sure you clean up! I ain't paying to get blood from those scratches out of the carpet!"

Dipper gave a little wave of his hand to show he heard him.

He walked down the corridor silently, hearing his sister and his friends giggling in ten living room. He had almost passed the door when he felt a hand wrap around his arm and yank him into the living room.

"Dipper! Come say hel- what the heck happened to you?" Mabel stared at the scratches covering his arms.

Dipper held his books tighter with one arm. "Oh. It's just from the trees." He said. "I was in the woods."

Mabel was slowly grinning. Dipper felt a bad feeling pool into his stomach.

"I know how to fix this."

"No. No you don't."

"Girls. Get the kit," she said evilly.

Oh dear.

He didn't like the sound of this  _at all._

* * *

"You. Look. FABULOUS."

Dipper's eyebrow gave an annoyed twitch as he stared at his make-up covered face in a little hand held mirror - complete with bright red lipstick.

_Fucking hell Mabel, the things I do for you._

"There is literally nothing good about this situation," he said after a moment, rubbing his lips with his arms - which were completely covered in bandaids - to get the red off.

There was a sharp flash that blinded him for a second, and he saw Candy was holding a camera.

He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth.

_Count to ten, Dipper. Count to ten._

_One._

"How do you like the eyeshadow? Pink is so your color."

_Two._

"The winged eyeliner looks so professional - I only messed it up a little bit this time!"

_Three._

"I may have made him a little bit too orange."

_Four._

"The purple kitten bandaids really snazz it up!"

_Fuck._

"Hey Dip, you okay? You look like you're about to pop a blood vessel."

_It._

"Can't you see I'm  _busy,_  Mabel?" He snarled at her, rising angrily from the seat, kicking it back as he did. Mabel jumped back, eyes widening. "I have  _way_  more important things to be doing than playing the part of your goddamn Barbie doll and I  _refuse_  to sit here and be treated like one!" He gave her a small push backwards. "Where the  _hell_  did you put my things?" Mabel swallowed, pointing. His eyes fell on them, and he marched over, pushing Grenda aside (or trying to) to pick them up from the big chair.

He spun back around, glaring daggers at Mabel. "Leave me alone, okay, Mabel?"

"Okay, Dipper," she said, pink in the cheeks, eyes downcast.

Dipper felt bad for yelling at her, but he was so angry that he was scared he'd start floating any minute now.

God. He didn't need this.

He could feel the tension in the the room, growing tighter with every tick of the clock. He wanted to apologize (the look on her face was too much for him to handle), but fear held him back.

So, Dipper did the logical thing that anybody in the same situation would have done.

He raced out of there like a bat out of hell, leaving his tears eyed sister and her stunned friends behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing!   
> I have a tumblr! Ask me something at http://filthymallards.tumblr.com


	11. Rabbit Hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.

"Dipper. Dipper, come out."

Dipper's was curled up in a tight ball on top of his bed, which he'd pushed against the door to stop it from being opened. He'd been laying on top of it for a good hour or so, and had do desire to get up any soon. He'd considered cocooning himself under the blanket for sometime, but that required effort, and Dipper just couldn't push himself to move.

Plus, Stan was banging on the door, demanding he come out, and Dipper was most definitely  _not_  going to do that. No, no. He was far too busy self-deprecating to do that.

He felt terrible - gut wrenchingly so.

He'd made Mabel cry.

It didn't sit well with him. It made him  _ache_  all over. His heart felt like it was being plucked at, tampered with,  _ripped out._ His heart was a song played with broken strings. And it was all his own fault.

He'd made Mabel  _cry._

He wanted to go downstairs and apologize to her but he...but he just  _couldn't._ The first half an hour, when he'd been working on moving the bed (it had been a task and a half) in front of the door, he kept telling himself to move his ass and get back down there and just...awkward sibling hugged it out.

Not to mention that everything tasted  _awful_  in the house - steadily growing worse and worse as (he assumed) his magical tendencies grew. The food was tainted with the disgusting crap, and even the air - not the magic (they were two very different things) was starting to taste strange and  _icky._

It did nothing to heighten his mood.

A quiet groan escaped his mouth from where his face was buried in his hands.

There was really no way out of admitting it to himself. He'd screwed up bad this time.

How could he fix it? He didn't know. Mabel was Mabel, and she'd forgive him straight away. They'd always been like that; fighting, but never fighting for long. Always having one another's backs when it came down to it.

But...

_But..._

_What has she ever done for me? Has she ever_ actually _had my back?_

He remembered what Bill had said to him last year, before he'd possessed his body, about all the things he'd give up for Mabel - and he was right. He was  _so_  right - even though she cared in her own special way, but...

But it wasn't enough. She didn't  _give_  enough.

He swallowed painfully.

Could he really let this drag on?

Dipper let out a soft sigh, echoing Stan's own sigh as he moved away from the door, heading back downstairs. Dipper listened to his heavy footsteps moving downstairs.

_Maybe...maybe Mabel is safer this way. What I'm doing is dangerous...Bill has threatened her more than once, after all...the further away from this mess she is, the better._

Dipper's jaw set, and he gave himself a firm nod.

It was better that they be distant from each other, he decided. No matter how much it hurt and how awkward it was going to be, he had to keep it this way.

For her sake.

With that final thought, he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He gathered all the strength that he could muster and pushed himself off the bed, picking up his notebook and journal 3 from next to him as he went. He tested each floorboard until he found the squeaky one he was looking for. He bent don't, lifting up the floorboard and slotting the two books in the gap, before placing the floorboard back down.

Next, he stood up and rechecked his face in the window to make sure he'd gotten all of the makeup off.. His face looked red from all the rubbing he'd done - he'd had to use a pack of tissues and some old water from a bottle. He'd be damned before he went downstairs again to use the bathroom.

He unclasped the window, pulling open the separate sides and peaked down below at the ground. It was kinda far down...did he really trust himself to do it?

Dipper grimaced, getting on Mabel's bed, and then climbing on the rickety table to get to the window. He slid one leg out of it, and then the other.

If he wanted to get out of here, he kind of had to do it. He closed his eyes.

"One...Two...Three...!" Dipper pushed away from the wall with one hand, holding the two books tight to his chest with the other. Air met him - pushing him and pulling him and flicking his hair all over his face.

He felt that giddy feeling again - the one that took over his whole body and made him want to laugh and scream and  _burn_  things (and _no way_  was that healthy  _at all)._ All his troubles seemed to melt away from him - no Mabel, no Stanord, no Stan - leaving only bliss.

Dipper snorted. Bill'd be proud of him. He'd turned him into a budding arsonist.

He wanted to be as far away from the Shack as he could be, as fast as possible.

He kicked out at the air before relaxing when he noticed he wasn't plummeting to the earth anymore. His legs felt all tingly, toes curling in his shoes as he suppressed a giggle at the tickling sensation, allowing himself to float to the ground.

_I love magic._

The taste of magic churned in the air with him, spinning and dancing across his tastebuds. He wanted to be able to see it. He wanted to know what it sounded like. He wanted to know how he could make it all  _his._

His feet brushed the ground, and he stood carefully, a smile slowing growing on his face.

Pressing his back against the wall, he began to walk along the side of it. He peeked into the kitchen when he got to the window. Mabel was sitting down making crafts with her friends, and although she was smiling, it wasn't as big as it usually was.

Dipper brushed it off, the smile not leaving his face, even though he knew that he should probably be frowning  _very deeply_  right about now.

_You're doing this for her, Dipper. Remember that._

He ducked under the window, sliding his way along the side of the Shack.

He didn't know where he was going, but his feet carried him away from the shack, away from the  _stench_ that touched his tongue, and towards the enchantment of the forest.

As it was, being in the house was stifling - and it wasn't because of the tension in the house. As soon as he was hit with the fresh Oregon air, and the magic that came along with it, his perceptions changed. Visually, he could see better, his reactions were faster, he felt stronger, he felt  _powerful..._

And the further away he got from the Shack, the better things became.

He'd have to talk to Bill about teaching him to dampen the horrible tastes - if that was even possible.

His eyes flickered down to his watch. 10 o'clock. He wondered how long it would take them to notice that he was gone, and then decided that he really didn't  _care_  if they noticed. He was happier being left alone to his own devices.

So, he walked mindlessly through the woods, not particularly caring whether or not he eventually found his way back or not.

It wasn't even that cold in the woods - then again, it  _was_  summer, so he shouldn't be that surprised.

He walked with his hands in his pockets, whistling lightly to himself as he walked. It wasn't out of nerves, no, which was weird. He was usually pretty jumpy when he was in the woods by himself - but now, it was like he  _owned_  the forest. Despite himself, he could feel a little skip in his step, a little cocky saunter, a smug  _swagger._

Was this what Bill felt like all the time?

...Because it was kinda awesome. He wanted to feel like this more often.

He sat down, taking in his surroundings and then blinking rapidly as he realized just  _where_  he was.

Dipper lay back and spread out across the gigantic stump that led to the swimming hole, smiling lazily. He watched bats flying in the sky, and wondered briefly if they had rabies.

_Probably._

Mabel, in that moment however, barely even registered in his mind.

Everything was perfect.

* * *

Dipper's eyelashes fluttered, eyelids opening up to a black and white landscape. Instead of the stump, he was lying out on a patch of dull gray grass. An obscene eyeball hovered right in front of him, the yellow triangle looking particularly gleeful.

"Hey kid, how ya been?'

Dipper rolled his eyes, pulling himself up into a sitting position. The grass beneath him was green, and with his movements, the color began to spread across his mindscape. Dazzles of lush lime leaped across the grass, and all different kinds of brown ran up the bark of the trees. The sky was a bright baby blue, and the sun let out a kind heat that soothed his aching , everything was bright, and Dipper felt as if he was in his own little wonderland.

Did that make him Alice?

Did that make Bill the Mad Hatter?

_Who am I kidding, he's so totally the mad hatter._

And before he knew it, he was laughing, falling back to the ground and pointing at Bill in complete hysterics. The demon blinked at him rapidly, giving him several sharp pokes with his cane.

"Kid? You okay down there? Did I break you or something?" He hummed, tapping his finger under his eye. "I didn't anticipate this outcome very seriously..."

 _"Mad...Hatter..."_  Dipper banged his fist against the ground, his laughter wild as he wheezed out the words.

"I don't get it. Kid, you're insane."

"And what so bad about that?"

His laughter broke off abruptly, and he looked at Bill, the color draining from his face. Bill grabbed Dipper's hand, yanking him up so he was floating next to him.

"Wanna repeat that, kid? Just once - just for me! No? Aw, too bad." The demon look exceptionally pleased. "You're finally coming around! I never expected it to happen so soon!"

"No! I'm not-"

"You don't wanna admit it but you're just. Like. Me." Bill interrupted, punctuating his words with a sharp jab with a finger at Dipper's head.

"I'm _nothing_ like you, Bill."

"But you want to be."

_"I'm not going crazy!"_

"Well, I'm no therapist, but I can  _definitely_  tell you that you're not  _going_  anything. Heck, Pine Tree, you were so eager to get on the train to coo-coo town you shoved everyone else outta the way!"

He laughed at the uneasiness on Dipper's face.

"Sh-shut up!"

"And now look what you've got left! No sanity, no sister, no friends, no family. Only good ol' Bill Cipher to take care of you!" The expression in the demons eye spelled out nothing good. "Whaddaya say, Pine Tree, huh? Why not just give up this little charade and accept it already! You want the knowledge,  _right?_  You want the  _power?_  Come on, just shake my hand, it isn't that hard!" He held his hand out, blue fire lighting in his hand and in his eye.

"I..."

Dipper inched away from Bill, denying it vehemently in his head. He had Mabel and Wendy and Soos and Stan and Stanford and and-

"You have  _no one,_  Pine Tree. No one except for me, your  _ever so_ faithful teacher! And you know it," Bill taunted.

Dipper knew Bill was playing him - he knew it in the back of his mind, but...but was he  _really_  sure of that? What if they were all actually out to get him? What if they were just biding their time and getting ready to  _off_  him or...or something!

His paranoid mind wrapped itself up into gigantic knots, a whirlwind rushing through his head. Bill was twisting it up, he was sure, but...

What if, because Bill was his greatest enemy, he was also the only one he could trust?

Did that even make  _sense?_

Did  _anything_  make sense anymore?

"Atta boy, Pine Tree," Bill said. Dipper blinked, glancing between himself and Bill to see that their hands were held together between them, the blue flame racing up his arm. He gasped, feeling the fire burning. He hadn't noticed before, but he had fallen back to the ground, soil under his knees.

His head bowed with agony, and his arm felt as if it was being burned out if it's socket.

_It isn't meant to hurt, why is it hurting, someone help me, PLEASE!_

"No...no I -  _this isn't what I want Bill,_ take it back! Take it back!" He tried to yank his arm away, but only managed a strangled gasp of pain instead.

"Too late for that now, Pine Tree," Bill said, releasing his arm.

Dipper fell back to the earth, panting hard and his face tight with pain. His body ached, jerking as if he was being jolted by electricity every few seconds. Little choked noises escaped his mouth as his eyes slowly closed, the world turning gray once more. The last thing he saw before they closed completely was Bill's glowing form, hearing him snigger darkly.

"Sleep now, kid. I've got a lot planned, and you need to be at your utmost strength," he said.

But what Dipper really heard, behind the false, candid nature, was a dark, whispered,  _"You're mine now."_

And...

Oddly enough?

He was okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing! Until next time.  
> I have a tumblr! Send me a message at filthymallards.tumblr.com!


	12. Magic, Magic, and More Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter, and enjoy!  
> I don't own Gravity Falls.

When Dipper's eyes opened, all he could see was color. He was still seated on the stump, but now...now things were  _different._

Pinks and purples and blues spun in the air, twisting around him. A spiral of lilac curled around a lock of his hair, causing it to float for a moment, before the drift of colour danced away. He raised a hand, brushing his fingers through a patch of pink next to him. A small jolt met his fingers - not unpleasant at all. It left his hand feeling delightfully tingly.

 _"Magic,"_ he breathed excitedly. The air he exhaled brushed aside the magic, causing it to disperse, before joining back to together again.

Dipper laughed softly, a grin spreading over his face as he reached out to touch the other fragments of magic around him. Each gave a different feeling, but each was equally as amazing.

Slowly his gaze moved down to his watch. 2:34 am. He released a groan, grin falling from his face as he ran his hand through his hair and slowly stood.

_I should really be getting back._

The magic around him buzzed, the blues of the air curling around him. When he raised a hand, they surrounded it, and when he started walking away, they followed. His grin returned to his face, threatening to split it in half.

So  _this_  was  _his_  magic.

He allowed his feet to rise up in the air, and the blue seemed to split off. Some stayed curled around him, but the majority of it fell beneath his feet.

_This is awesome._

He let his feet return to the ground, and the magic gathered back around his hands and arms.

Dipper started walking back to the Mystery Shack, watching his hands the whole time. This was absolutely crazy, and he loved it. It sent him into a fit of laughter as he clenched and unclenched his hands. His laugh sounded a little warbled, even to his own ears. Too high pitched, too nasty.

And he didn't give  _one. Single. Shit._

He had to wipe at his eyes, which stung with tears of insanity.

Dipper snorted to himself, shrugging. Who really  _cared_  anyway? If being insane got you  _this much,_  he'd take it over sanity  _any_  day.

"Wow, I  _have_  totally lost it. Bill's so right," he said aloud, to no one in particular.

He blinked at himself, shaking his head. He shouldn't be thinking things like that - not at all. Not  _ever._  Those were Bill thoughts, and Bill thoughts were  _bad_  thoughts.

He began to notice as he wandered back through the forest that his vision was sharp -  _abnormally_  sharp. The trees cut obvious shapes in the darkness, and he didn't once stumble over tangles roots and hidden bushes.

He only stopped walking when he was on the outskirts of the woods, seeing the Mystery Shack just ahead of him. He very nearly turned and ran back the way he'd come. Surrounding the Shack was a sickly greenish black  _glowing._  He'd been right in thinking the flow was wrong. The magic around the building didn't move like his magic, or the magic of the forest. It moved sluggishly, far too slowly. It wasn't soft and fluid like the other enchantments and wisps that floated through the air. It's movements were sharp and jagged, and he just didn't want to be around it anymore.

"Dipper! Dipper where the heck have you been!"

_Ah, shit._

His gaze fell on Grunkle Stan and Stanford. Grunkle Stan had an odd expression on his face, crossed between annoyance and worry, and Stanford was sitting on the sodden steps outside the shack under the light, a book in his hands. Dipper caught a flash of a '1', but he really needn't have looked at the number to realize that it was one of his books. He could see the wisps of dull green coming off of it from where he stood, could taste the same scent on Journal 1 that he tasted on Journal 3 when he tried hard enough to catch the impure tang of it. Stan was closing the distance between them quickly, so Dipper shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts, not moving an inch from where he stood.

He thought about what he could say to Stan, to get him to relax before he growled at him.

"I went out," he said nonchalantly.

_Oh, well done. That was a great excuse. Give yourself an award._

"The  _window?"_

Dipper shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't see what the problem is."

_A+ recovery, dumbass. Why not try dig yourself into a bigger hole?_

"You're lucky you didn't hurt yourself, kid! Seriously, what's gotten into you?"

His mouth jumped like he was going to smile, but he was quick to quell it.

_Bad Dipper, smiling will only get you thrown into an insane asylum._

_Heh._

_I could mess with so many people in an insane asylum if- no no no, Dipper! Bill thoughts, Bill thoughts! Focus on the matter at hand!_

He shrugged again, but this time it was a little more timid, his head ducking down to stare at his feet.

"I...I just...It was too  _tight_  in there...I had to get out. And I didn't want to run into Mabel so..." He lifted his head, face pinched. His voice was laced with pain, hands bunching in his shorts.

_Keep on truckin', Dipper. You're lying like a pro._

Though, the thought of facing Mabel - especially now - wasn't something that appealed to him anyway - so it wasn't a total lie. He had no idea what she'd notice about him and what she wouldn't. Heck, he didn't even know if he was  _acting_  all that different. (He  _felt_  mostly normal, but Bill had done... _something,_  and that something had done weird things to his magic and his body. And his mind, maybe? He didn't know - by things that weren't meant to be funny were suddenly feeling _a lot funnier.)_  He already assumed that she suspected him of being up to something - after lashing out at her, she  _had_  to know something was up - but he didn't know how far she would be willing to go to find out.

He didn't want her getting involved - even if she had betrayed him before, even if she was probably betraying him  _now._ He just wanted her to stay the hell away from this mess.

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck. "I really hurt her feelings before, and I don't want to ruin her sleepover any more than I already have, and I needed to get out of there  _so badly_ that I just...you know...climbed out the window..."

"That's a pretty high fall, Dipper," Stanford spoke up. "I never picked you for the daredevil type."

Their eyes met over the distance, and Dipper knew instantly that Stanford was suspicious of him. His keen eyesight saw the distrust in his great uncle's face, saw they way his six fingers tapped thoughtfully over the book, one at a time, like a trap waiting to be sprung.

_Well, I'm not going to be caught in it, you deceitful bastard._

"I used the beams on the sides of the roof to get down, then jumped off of the Mystery Shack sign," he explained, staring his great uncle straight in the eye. His gaze flickered back to Stan. "I'm sorry for scaring you...does Mabel know I was gone?"

He felt relief when Stan shook his head no. "We didn't want to ruin her night. She thinks you're still upstairs in your bedroom. If you go back up now, she won't even realize you left."

"Uhm...okay..."

Dipper sidestepped his Grunkle, passed by Stanford (who continued to watch and criticize him as he pushed open the front door to the Shack), and headed upstairs to his bedroom. As he passed the living room, his shoulders sagged with relief when he noticed the door was shut. That made his life so much easier.

When he got upstairs, he saw the door to his and Mabel's room was ajar, the bed having been pushed as it was forced open. Dipper assumed Stan had gotten sick of waiting for him to come out.

Silently, Dipper closed the door, leaning his back against it.

His face slowly turned from placid to disgust, his hand clenching into fists. Part of him was disgusted at the smell and the feel of the Shack. But the other part of him...

They looked at him with such...such  _mistrust._

They  _mistrusted_   _him,_ when he was doing all of this  _for_   _them_  in the first place?!

How could they,  _how could they, HOW COULD THEY?!_

Dipper turned, letting out a frustrated, short scream (that he hoped no one would hear). The books atop the desk between his and Mabel's beds burst into flames - bright blue ones.

Dipper jumped backwards, sucking in a horrified breath of air, his back hitting the door as his mouth dropped open. His magic lashed around him, filling any spare space it could find in him and around him. His limbs shook so much he had to sink down to the floor as he watched the fire die out along with his sudden burst of anger.

Where...where had that even  _come_  from in the first place?

The fire...the fire, while scary, was understandable. It was magic, Bill was his teacher, and Bill used fire _a lot._ It made sense that he would be able to use something like that, too.

But the anger...

His emotions were all over her place - and he didn't like it. Not one single bit.

Dipper glanced down at his shaking hands, slowly allowing them to curl into fists. Nothing happened for a few moments, so he concentrated as hard as he could. Fire burst from his hands, where most of his magic had gathered itself. It didn't burn or hurt. In fact, it felt really nice. When he opened his fingers back up, the fire burned brightest in the center of his palm. He let it extinguish, then buried his face in his knees.

_What's happening to me?_

Dipper  _should_  have felt more frightened. He  _should_  have been begging someone for help. He  _should_  have been doing a lot of things that he  _wasn't doing._

He could feel a smile growing on his face, eyes brightening as he opened and closed his palm, starting the fire and extinguishing it.

He glanced up at the desk, finally seeing that the fire had burnt his books to ash.

So...could he isolate it to one object? He wonders if he could - that wobble be wicked coo. It was something he'd have to experiment with sometime in the future.

Dipper stood up, wondering if he could do other things now, that didn't include trying to burn the Shack to the ground. He raised his hand, pointing his palm out towards the bed.

Nothing happened, so Dipper narrowed his eyes, his fingers slowly closing in to make a fist. The bed jittered on the spot, then started to move. A bright grin flashed wider across Dipper's face as he moved his hand, sending the bed back to where it usually went beside the table.

He lifted his hand high above his head, and the objects in the room began to lift, surrounded by a blue tint. His magic accumulated into a storm around him, twisting around his face and blocking out the sickly murk of the toxins below in the lab. Everything around the room returned to where it was meant to be, clearing out the walk space and just tidying up in general. His shirt was flung into the laundry basket, and the dried up, crusty blood was removed from the floorboards.

This was  _undeniably awesome._

He had to tell Mabel, she'd be-

His smile fell off his face, and his arm fell to his side. A few of his books which hadn't returned to the table fell to the floor with a small thump.

In his sudden euphoria, he'd completely forgotten about his and Mabel's...disagreement.

_God. How could I forget - for even a second?_

Dipper berated himself silently, running a hand through his hair. His thoughts were going haywire, all sorts of emotions buzzing through his brain. Part of him was ready to go downstairs and just reveal  _everything,_  but the other part of him - the bigger part of him, told him that he needed to sit down, go to sleep, and talk to Bill about it.

So, that was what he did.

He kicked his shoes off, changed into a pair of boxers, and clambered into bed.

Sleep took him instantly.

* * *

Dipper opened his eyes, sitting up in his seat in the classroom as he looked around and blinked away sleep.

Bill had a piece of chalk against the blackboard, and was watching the chalk move up and down against the board.

"Hi Bill."

"So eager to see me, eh, Pine Tree? I'm a busy guy, you know - making deals, destroying lives, you know. I can't always stop and make time for you."

Dipper snorted, then stopped, looking surprised and embarrassed for finding any if what he said funny.

Hm. That was...disconcerting.

"Yeah yeah, I know. I just wanted to know...the deal. What did I actually agree too?"

Bill blinked his one big eye at him.

"Eh? It isn't obvious?"

"Well..."

"You aren't very smart, Pine Tree."

"I'm plenty smart! I just want to here from you what you think. I have my own hypothesis."

Bill moved over to Dipper, who's eyes flickered over to the blackboard. The chalk was still moving. Dipper thought he could see an image of a burning building. What building? It didn't look like the Shack. The demon lounged just above the desk in the air lazily, one leg crossed over the other.

"So, tell me what you remember."

"I remember you trying to  _burn me to death."_

"Not to  _death,_  kid. I've only just moulded you into the perfect little spy, why would I get rid of you so quickly?"

Dipper's left brow twitched in annoyance, but he didn't deny the accusation.

He really probably should have.

"Anyway," Dipper pressed. "What I remember isn't what I care about. What was our deal? What did I agree too?"

"Not much...but you're less of a door now and more of a window."

"...eh?"

Bill used his hands to indicate a box shape around his eye. "You're my spy, kid. Get it?"

Dipper blinked. Oh.

_Oh._

"You're using me like...binoculars?"

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner!"

"...that doesn't sound so bad."

The glowing demon looked mildly surprised - but mostly pleased by Dipper's response.

"See, you're comin' around! Magic's pretty intoxicating, eh, Pine Tree? I thought maybe I was gonna have to give you some lessons, but you're handling yourself pretty decently. Ha! I  _knew_  I picked right!"

Dipper just nodded absentmindedly, then began to frown as he begun to notice that he couldn't actually  _see_  any magic here. He could see it happening, but not...he couldn't observe it.

"Why can't I see magic here?"

Bill was suddenly face to face with him, causing Dipper to press back in his seat.

"Ah, man, that's...too close," he said nervously.

"You're seeing magic?"

"Uhm...yes?"

The demon pulled back, pacing around the air above Dippers seat and tapping just under his eye. Dipper suddenly felt unsure of himself. Was that not something that was meant to happen? If Bill was could see through his eyes now, why hadn't he noticed it?

"...is that bad? What-"

He broke off when Bill started to laugh, looking far too gleeful to be good.

"Oh, Pine Tree, you're just full of surprises aren't you?"

"Huh?"

"Well, this changes everything! I never considered this an option." The chalkboard image was swiped clean, the image changing.

"I'm...still lost?" Dipper's tone was full of bewilderment.

"You see, Pine Tree, magic is very...finicky. It likes some people, it hates others. You, it seems, it loves. Even I can't see magic - I though maybe you'd lost  _all_  your marbles when you started groping at the air. Coulda just been a great big, gigantic ass, but-"

"Bill," Dipper said slowly. "You talk about magic like it's living."

"Magic  _is_  living, idiot. Just not in the way you or I exist."

His head hurt. This was too much to take in at once. Dipper buried his head in his when's and shook it sluggishly.

"Pine Tree, do your own research on it. I'll leave this part of your mindscape open for you."

"Uhm...okay...you still haven't answered my question."

"I never said I was going too. You're smart enough - figure it out yourself."

Dipper grunted. Bill kept contradicting himself. One minute, Dipper was stupid, the next, he was smart.

_Damn Dorito._

"In the meantime, I've got another job for ya. Two, actually." Bill causally leaned his arm against the desk, looking at Dipper. "One; make up with your sister. I'm still protecting her remember, and right now, you're breaking your own deal," he said. Dipper's face scrunched up a little. Bill was right, but...but he was having some really conflicting thoughts about Mabel - about his family in general.

Ugh. This is going to be difficult.

"Two; I need you to keep an eye on some people for me."

"Who?"

"The Northwests."

"The...Northwests? Seriously?" His face dropped. While he and Mabel had left Pacifica in an amicable relationship, that didn't mean he wanted to deal with her or her horrid family.

_Can this get any worse?_

"Mhmm. Particularly Pacifica Northwest."

_It got worse._

"Why do I have to do it?" He whined.

"Stop asking questions and just do it."

"But-"

"Dipper."

Dipper fell silent, tapping his finger against the desk. Bill was serious about this. He scowled after a moment, holding his hand out to Bill, who grinned, snatching his palm up, shaking it. Blue fire erupted between them - a blue that didn't only belong to the demon in the room.

"Pleasure doing business with you Pine Tree. Get busy."

"Sir, yes sir _"_ he said mockingly, saluting at Bill with a jeer as the world slowly fell into darkness.

* * *

Dipper awoke to the sun filtering into the room, and magic curling under his nose, making him sneeze. He glanced over at the bed across from his to find it still made from when he'd fixed it up with his magic in the early morning. When he checked the time, he saw it was 8:34 am.

Time to get up and start the day.

Time to apologize to Mabel.

Time to find out how to infiltrate the Northwest family.

But first...

He gave himself a sniff, nose screwing up,

But  _first,_ he should probably go shower.

Heh. They'd all be proud of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotional manipulation is fun.  
> I have a tumblr! Send me a message at filthymallards.tumblr.com!


	13. Forgiveness?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls, nor shall I ever!

Dipper walked downstairs slowly, listening to the squeak of the stairs beneath his feet. His hair was still damp from his shower, hanging into his eyes. He brushed it aside slightly and adjusted the bag on his back. He could feel his journals jostling around inside.

Not to mention his magic was everywhere - touching everything and feeling everything. It curled around inbetween his fingers and tickled his nose.

The Shack magic was everywhere too. Dipper flicked his finger every so often so that an enchantment clouded over the impure magic of the Shack, disguising the worse of the taste from his tongue.

He rubbed the side of his head, wincing as he felt a headache coming on. He knew what that meant and was not looking forward to the feeling of his head ripping apart.

But first, he was going to set things right with Mabel. Right. Now.

He'd managed to (partially) convince himself while he'd showered that of  _course_  Mabel wasn't out to get him. She was his twin - they loved each other. She wouldn't betray him.

It was only Grunkle Stan and Stanford he couldn't trust.

Dipper steeled himself, then pushed the kitchen door open. Candy, Grenda, and Mabel were munching down on their cereal, looking up when he came in. An uncomfortable silence fell across the room.

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck. "Mabel...can I talk to you?" He asked awkwardly.

Mabel blinked at him, then slowly nodded, sliding out of her seat with a fake smile plastered across her face. "Sure, Dip-Dop," she said.

He turned and walked out of the kitchen and back into the hallway, jamming his hand into the pockets of his shorts, leaning against the wall. Mabel watched him expectantly.

"I'm sorry, Mabel...for yelling at you. I don't know what came over me and..."

And just like that, Mabel was hugging him. He tensed briefly (why was he tensing up?), but soon returned the embrace.

He felt...weird. Not a good weird either. His magic was acting funny, sizzling around him...why was it doing that? It was like static, and is made him feel jumpy and erratic.

"It's okay, Dipper. I get it," she said, pulling away and bopping him on the nose with a 'boop!'

Dipper blinked at her. "You aren't...mad? You're not gonna hold this against me?"

"Of course not! I feel like a total poophead for fabulizing your face in the first place. I know it isn't your thing."

He smiled slightly, feeling himself relax. He could never understand how Mabel could forgive others so quickly. He wished he had that outgoingness, that pizzazz that drew others to her so readily.

"Thanks, Mabel," he said. "Uhm, would you wanna go out mystery hunting with me when Candy and Grenda go home? We haven't done any mystery twin solving since we got here, you know? I miss that."

Mabel grinned. "Do you even need to ask?" She said, punching his arm lightly.

"This is gonna be awesome! I have to tell you all about what I've been doing lately - you're gonna love it!"

Apparently that was the right thing to say, because Dipper saw the way her eye brightened - saw the way her grin got even bigger. He saw the way she bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet.

"YES! I am gonna love it! I thought you were keeping secrets from me...but..." She laughed, shrugging her shoulders. "Thank you Dipper. I better get back to my friends, but...thank you."

Dipper nodded, keeping a forced smile on his face as she turned and headed back into the kitchen. As soon as she was gone, it dropped - mostly out of guilt that he was still lying to her, but partly because now not only was his head pounding, but so was his heart. He stumbled into the toilet room, locking the door behind him as he collapsed to his knees in front of the toilet and vomited into the bowl. He could feel memories flashing back and forth in his head, could hear voices, but couldn't filter out what they were saying. Everything hurt. His head, his lungs, his heart. He gripped the toilet rim tightly, vomiting into it again.

His eyes slid shut as he dry heaved, hands shaking as they slid off the bowl and he sat back on his knees, concentrating on his breathing as his thoughts flickered with new memories. Many of the new memories were just flashes of two hands shaking, two hands enveloped with fire, but he couldn't get any more than that - his head pounded as soon as he tried go search his mind for a better understanding of the memory, so he let it go for now.

He'd have to ask Bill about it.

Dipper stood up slowly, flushing the toilet and washing his hands in the sink so the others thought he'd just been using the toilet instead of puking up his guts.

He headed back out into the kitchen, smiling a greeting at Candy and Grenda, before reaching into the cupboard and pulling out his breakfast cereal.

Mabel gave him a toothy grin.

Today was going to be a good day for her - he'd make sure of it.

* * *

"So, Dip, where are we goin'?"

He and Mabel were trudging deep through the woods, jumping over tree roots and crunching plants beneath their feet.

Dipper was following curling, puke green strands of magic as they moved. He'd never seen that particular color yet, but when he'd touched it, he could feel that it was real magic - not the same as the three Journals or the Shack. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to rekindle the trust between he and Mabel.

He pulled his backpack off of his back, unzipping it and pulling out Journal 3 and his own notebook. Mabel looked curious, but confused.

"I'm making my own journal," he said. "I kinda felt that everything in here wasn't explained that well, if you get what I mean?"

"You've lost be bro-bro."

Dipper scratched the back of his head, tucking his journal under his arm and flipping open Journal 3. "Well, I was looking through the book, and I kinda noticed that everything that's written in here is just the basics of each creature, and how to defend yourself against them...but, I mean c'mon, fairies aren't exactly dangerous creatures if you know how to treat them."

"Fairies? Can we go see them!" Mabel asked excitedly, tugging his arm.

"Eh...sorry, Mabel. I already did that," he said apologetically. Mabel groaned in disappointment as he handed her his own journal. She flipped through the filled in pages, making an 'Oooooooh' noise. She handed the book back. "So...we're gonna go investigate some other creatures?" She gasped. "Can we go find a unicorn! Please please  _pleeeease,_ Dipper?!"

"Er...I kinda just walk through the forest until I find something. I was lucky I knew where the fairies were because Stanley had already written that in the entry about them."

"Just as long as we don't run into the gnomes," Mabel said, then shivered. "Let's not ever repeat that again, ever."

Dipper snorted, taking his journal back from her hands and clutching the two books tightly together. "Yeah, yeah," he pulled a whistle out from his shorts. "I came prepared, just in case."

She grinned. "You're a good little bro."

"Don't ruin it, Mabel."

They continued walking in a companionable silence. Dipper closed his eyes briefly, side-stepping a root as he breathed in the fresh air. His magic still felt more erratic than normal, but at least it wasn't going haywire like it had before.

It was just another thing he'd have to talk to Bill about - which was a good point in itself. Was Bill watching through Dipper's eyes right now, silently critcizing everything he was seeing (or, you know,  _not_  seeing. Closed eyes didn't see much as far as he could tell).

Either way - the thought of Bill using him was disturbing enough to run a shiver up his spine.

"Hey, Dip?"

He opened his eyes, looking at her. She was staring him in the face, as if she was trying to work out something. Dipper felt uncomfortable under her scrutiny, but stared back at her unblinkingly.

"I never asked before, but where did your hat and vest go?" She asked suddenly.

"Eh?" He blinked, confused by her answer. "Oh! Uhm, I gave them to the fairies."

Mabel gushed. "Aaaaaaaw, you big softie!"

"Shut up, Mabel," he said, embarrassment crossing his face. She gave him a hard punch on the arm, and he pushed her back gently, only to freeze. "Wait! Look!" He pointed ahead of them with one hand, slapping his other hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. The green color was accumulating a storm. When she quietened down, he pulled his hand off of her mouth, staring in front of him from behind the bushes.

In front of them, moving out from underground tunnels was a tiny, squat, fur covered creature with an abnormally large nose. It only went as far as the edge of the shadows that the trees cast, before dumping mounds of...aw god, was that poo?

_Ew. Ew on so. Many. Levels._

"Naaaw. It looks like a little Grunkle Stan."

"That's a  _troll,_  Mabel!" He said quietly.

Mabel blinked at him. "I don't...there's a difference?"

He straightened up, ignoring her absurdity for the moment. "Follow my lead, okay? I know what I'm doing." He stepped out from behind the bushes, the rustling alerting the creature. Immediately it went on the defensive. Dippers sharp eyes saw that beneath the shaggy fur, the troll's skin was rock hard, it's muscles rolling as if it were getting ready to attack.

This had to be done right. He hadn't read very much on trolls, or their customs - they weren't mentioned in Journal 3 - but he knew they weren't afraid to get violent. Honestly...he'd expected something...taller - but the research he'd encountered online while looking up fairies hadn't really said for certain whether trolls were big or small. He assumed it probably depended on where they lived.

The key to control was power. How he was going to prove he was stronger than the troll with Mabel standing there, he didn't know. The troll was sizing him up, sniffing him, gathering how much of a danger he could pose. It made a start towards them, hissing.

Dipper slid into a patch of sunlight, holding his hands up. "Look man, I just wanna talk," he began carefully. Out of his peripheral vision he could see Mabel moving closer to him, gripping the back of his shirt. He guessed it was lucky that he remembered trolls turned to stone if they touched sunlight.

The little troll growled at them, raising a hand and throwing dung at them.

He did not, however, know they were into dung throwing.

"Aw, dude, that's just gross!" Dipper complained as he shoved Mabel to the side, dodging the flying faeces. "Seriously, man! Chill! We just wanna talk." Dipper heard a threatening edge to his own voice, and he held his hand out to the troll, who watched him with narrowed eyes. He turned his hand palm up, a small fire lighting briefly, and put it out before Mabel - who had landed into a pile of bushes - could see. It was enough to frighten the troll, who made to move back into its tunnel. Dipper minutely shook his head in warning at it, fighting back the nasty grin he could feel growing on his face.

 _So this is what having real power feels like. Man. It is_ so _underrated - no wonder politicians are so corrupt, power feels awesome._

He supposed it was bad that he considered pushing the little troll into the sun, just for the hell of it.

_Hahahaha I should not be finding that funny._

It cautiously stepped nearer to them, staying out of the sun. Dipper kneeled down on the ground, and Mabel shook herself off, seating herself beside him.

"Can you speak?"

The troll grunted.

"Can you nod for yes and shake for no?" Mabel asked. The troll sniffed at her, looking curious, and nodded it's head.

"Sweet. That makes life so much easier," Dipper said, then promptly launched into his explanation as to what he was doing with the books to the little troll - and to Mabel, to some extent, who 'oohed' and 'aahed' on occasion, completely enthused by what he planned to do in full detail.

She was oddly quiet when he mentioned destroying the journal, once his little project was done.

So far, he decided however, so good.

* * *

They didn't spend nearly as long with the troll as he did the fairies. It was a lot harder to get competent answers from a creature that only spoke in grunts than, you know, actually speech, after all.

Mabel had gotten bored halfway through the little 'interview' and had started fiddling around with Journal 3.

"Alright! Thank you for speaking with us," Dipper said as he stood, putting his journal back into his backpack. Mabel blinked at him, then scrambled up when she realized they were leaving.

The little troll grunted at him, giving the pair of them a dark look, before scrambling off back into his little underground cave.

Dipper and Mabel looked at each other, grinning equally large grins as they started tramping back through the woods back the way they had come.

"C'mon, we better head back. It's lunch time already and I'm starved."

"Me too. Do you think Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford will wanna go to the diner?"

"Eh...Great Uncle Ford doesn't really like going out. He's a total antisocial nerd. Kinda like you!"

"Don't compare me to him, Mabes. We're completely different people." He felt very proud of himself for not sounding disgusted when he spoke.

Mabel snorted at him, then quietened down, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes.

"...what?" Dipper asked.

"Are you really going to destroy the journal when you're done? I mean...it's like, his legacy, Dipper..."

He laughed. "Of course not, Mabel," he lied. "I only said that because otherwise he wouldn't talk to me. We were pretty lucky, to be honest. Usually trolls aren't afraid to get violent."

Mabel just made a noise in the back of her throat, crashing into her brother when he stopped and turned around. He rest his hands on her shoulders and stared her square in the eye.

"I realize you aren't happy that I'm lying. But you have to understand; it's all for a greater purpose."

She looked uncomfortable. "But lying is bad, Dipper-"

He took Journal 3 from her, flipping through the pages. "This, Mabel, is an  _amazing_  book. Why would I even  _consider_  destroying it? It has information in it that professional paranormal investigators could only dream about knowing. But when I talked to the fairies, showed them the book, they told me it felt bad. They said they would only speak to me if I promised to destroy it after I complete my own. That's why I lied. I had to get information." He broke off, staring at the back pages of the book.

"...Dipper?" Mabel asked, looking confused.

Time seemed to slow down as he zoned in on just  _what_  he was seeing.

How had he...how had he not  _noticed_  before?

There were pages missing -  _missing._ His sharp vision caught the way the pages didn't quite...match up. Saw how there was a tiny piece of paper in the middle of the book that was so minuscule that he wouldn't have noticed it if his eyes weren't enhanced.

_Damn it. Damn it damn it damn it! That conniving old bastard!_

_My pages. He took out_ my _pages._

_What a fucking asshole._

"Dipper? You okay, bro bro?"

Dipper blinked at her, shaking himself out of his thoughts. His hands were shaking with a quiet rage - like a volcano not quite ready to erupt. "...yeah. I'm fine. Let's just...let's just keep going," he said slowly.

He turned away from her and shut Journal 3, dumping it into his backpack with his own book. He quickened his pace, teeth grinding together angrily as Mabel scurried after him, only relaxing his expression when she fell into step with him.

There silence had quickly gone from amicable to tense, and he hated it. This wasn't why he'd brought Mabel out with him. He wanted her to trust him - he wanted to  _not_  fight with her. So far, he wasn't doing a good job at mending their relationship.

But...he couldn't just out and tell her about Bill mentoring him in magic. She'd be even more disgusted - even more horrified. She knew about the dreams with Bill he'd been having before he'd made the deal, but she hadn't asked him if he was still having them. Considering he was sleeping - and sleeping soundly - he assumed she thought Bill wasn't visiting him anymore. But if she ever found out about what he was doing now...she'd never trust him again.

_Maybe I can't fix things this time._

The thought hurt more than he thought it could.

Dipper glanced at Mabel out of the corner of his eyes, at the way she was looking curiously around her, the little smile on her face as she watched a bird take off into flight. More than anything, he just wanted to protect her.

He turned his gaze down towards the ground, and he let out a gentle sigh.

Things could be worse, he supposed.

He should take what he could get.

* * *

When they arrived back at the Shack, tourists were crammed into every corner of the gift shop, looking at snow globes and shirts and bobbleheads. Mabel bounced over to Stan, who slapped a 'No Refunds' sticker onto the cash machine when a woman held out a broken snow globe, her son crying next to her. Dipper took it at his chance to escape into the part of the shack  _not_  designated to steal people's money. He made sure to step around the vending machine, glad that for once there were so many people in the shack. They somewhat diffused the taste and the feel of the magic wavering from the hidden entrance.

Dipper padded upstairs slowly to the attic, closing the door behind him gently. He wondered briefly is Stanford was hiding out in his room, or down in the laboratory.

Probably the laboratory.

It frustrated Dipper that he didn't know what was going on down there, because  _boy_  did it whip up some disgusting crap.

He ground his teeth together, snapping the pen that he'd absentmindedly picked up and began to chew. Ink splattered in his mouth, and he spat it out.

"Gross."

He turned his thoughts away from Stanford, because all that did was distract him and he didn't need distractions right now.

Now that things had been sorta-not-really cleared up with Mabel, it was time to start on his plan to infiltrate the Northwest Manor.

He dumped his backpack on the ground, taking out Journal 3 and opening it up to the batch of pages about ghosts.

_Phase One: How to force a ghost to do your bidding._

Dipper took in all the information on the page - even though he could probably recite the book back to front if he needed to, he still wanted to remind himself of all the knowledge it offered. Bill would have to be his source of answers on binding a ghost to him since it wasn't contained in Journal 3. He wondered how hard it would be, then laughed to himself.

_Hard. HA! This'll be easy._

His gaze turned to his hand, watching as it burned with blue flame feeling a sick satisfaction rush through him.

_Way too easy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Chapter 13 finished! We are actually starting to get into the really meaty part of the story now.  
> Until next time!


	14. Madness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Chapter 14! I put a lot of work into this chapter so hopefully you all enjoy it as much as I was challenged while writing it!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.

"Binding a ghost to you is easy, if you're not a weak-minded meat bag who can't take a bit of pain," Bill told him as he tapped on Dipper's head with his cane to make sure he was still paying attention. They were once again seated in the classroom, having a lesson that Dipper wasn't really focusing on - though he should have been. He hadn't been back out into his actual mindscape since their lessons had started, and part of him wondered if his mindscape had changed at all over the course of his and Bill's arrangement. He looked up at the demon as he forced his focus back onto the glowing triangle, his brows furrowing.

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, Pine Tree, you've got a pretty good grip on the basics of elemental manipulation, so I think you'll be fine with a little bit of blood magic," Bill said, rubbing his hands together, as if the thought of Dipper being in pain entertained him.

Dipper leaned back in his seat, face scrunching up. "Aw,  _gross,_  no, you sick bastard. Can't we do it some other way?"

"Probably! But this way's  _much_  more fun for me."

Dipper slouched in his seat, fiddling with the textbook laying open on the desk, expression full of discomfort.

"Look man, I dunno if I'm ready to do something like that...I mean...can't I just practice some more of this elementary maniples or whatever?"

"Elemental manipulation."

"See, Bill, I don't even know what it's called," he complained, throwing up his hands. "How can you be so sure I know how to even do it?"

"I thought you were  _smart,_  kid," Bill said, sniggering at the angry scowl crossing Dipper's face. The demon rest an arm on the desk, his one eye staring lazily at his apprentice. "Look; you don't just  _create_  magic out of nothing. You turn it into one thing from something else." A ball of fire appeared in Bill's hand. "This, mere seconds ago, was someone's nightmare. Now it's fire. The same consequence works for you; except usually when  _you're_  casting you turn the air around you into this, because, y'know, it's an abundant resource." He explained it slowly, as if he was talking to a two year old. He juggled the fire around in his hand, before passing it off to Dipper, who held it carefully in cupped palms.

"I know you said you can't see magic in the mindscape, but you should be able to feel the difference," he continued.

Dipper looked at Bill, then let his gaze flicker to the fire, just staring at it for a long time.

"It...tastes different," he finally said, looking at Bill. "Your fire tastes like sweat." The fire went out in his hands.

"Uh huh. That's because it used to thrive on fear induced activities."

Dipper nodded slowly, understanding dawning on his face. "Oh! So that's why my magic is all...light and clean." He straightened up in his seat, leaning forward slightly. "And that's another thing; I can see it, taste it, and feel it, but...can I smell it? Does magic even have a smell?"

"You'll find that magic itself doesn't have a smell like it does a taste, but magical creatures have specific scents."

"Will I ever be able to smell them?"

"No. The only reason your eyesight got the way it is now is because I'm using you, and I need full '20/20 vision', as you meat bags would say - most humans actually function at about 14/20." Bill shrugged, adjusting his top hat on his head. "Doesn't explain how you got lucky enough to see magic, but eh, you must have the cosmos on your side or something." Bill didn't seem bothered by his ability, but Dipper couldn't really judge. If their positions were reversed, he knew he would have been extremely jealous.

"Anyway," Bill stressed out the word. "A little bit of blood magic will be easy. All you need is a couple of drops. It's the symbols that'll be the hard part for you. If you can write the correct alchemical symbols, a simple binding on a weaker ghost will be easy. Or should be. If you can't - you'll have to find another way into the Manor."

Dipper stared at Bill, then down at his hands. When he looked back up, his face was set and determined.

"Okay; I'll do it. I still don't know why you want me to do this, but I'll get it done...for the magic practice."

"Yeah, kid, you're doing this for the 'magic practice'," Bill made air quotations with his fingers. His eye was full of glee. "Stubborn, aren't ya?"

Dipper scowled with annoyance, but didn't deny Bill's insinuation towards his motives. His eyes slid over to the blackboard as different symbols were sketched upon it. He recognized the triangle symbol for fire, but not much else.

"Study them, memorize them, and then you can use them. These five are all you'll need to bind a ghost to you - one that isn't very powerful, but I trust it's enough to do the job."

Dipper studied each symbol carefully, tracing them in the air with his finger. Blue fire appeared in the air where his finger moved, outlining the symbols in front of his face. When he thought he had them memorized, he dropped his hand and glanced at Bill.

"So...what do I actually do with them?"

"You'll need to first find a ghost and trap it in one of these." The chalk drew a perfect pentagram on the board. Dipper's expression tightened uncomfortably.

"Okay, Bill I don't know about-"

"Before you bite my head off kid, let me explain. In alchemy, it's used as a form of protection. It'll keep any supernatural force on the physical plane trapped inside it. From there, you'll put these symbols at each point of the star. All you need to remember is to put the symbol for fire at the top, and the others won't matter."

"O...kay?" Dipper scratched the back of his neck, trying to remember every detail of what Bill was telling him. "Is...will I need to say anything?"

"The worlds will come to you, Pine Tree. Just let it flow - stop thinking. Seriously. I can almost see smoke coming outta your ears."

Dipper's brows furrowed. "But that doesn't make any-"

"Sweet dreams, Pine Tree!"

* * *

Dipper choked as he bolted upright in his bed, gasping for air as he looked around himself frantically. Mabel was staring at him from her bed, hugging Waddles to her. His sharp eyes picked up the way she was frowning at him, eyes wide with worry.

"Mabel?" He said tiredly, running a hand through his hair.

"Dipper..."

He waited for her to say something else, but she just looked away, picking at the blanket on her bed with one hand as she hugged Waddles closer with her other arm.

The silence was deafening.

"...It was just a dream, Mabel. No big deal," he eventually said, guessing what she was thinking.

"It's..." She drew in a shaky breath. "It isn't that...It just...you wouldn't sit still and you kept whispering to yourself and it was just weird." She picked at a loose thread on her bedspread, pulling it out of the blanket and making the material around it pull together. "It wasn't like you."

Dipper blinked at her, then laughed. It was faker than he intended it to be. "Don't be silly, Mabel, it was just a dream."

"I couldn't help but worry!" She burst out loudly, squeezing Waddles hard. The pig snorted at her slightly. Mabel's voice dropped to a whisper as she said, "I thought...I thought maybe..." She took a deep breath. "I thought maybe Bill was back."

Dipper stared at her for a long time. Then, his eyes widened, and panic struck through him like lightning.

_Shit shit shit, how do I get out of this one?!_

"Well...it wasn't him, Mabel. I haven't seen him since I talked to you about it - like forever ago. Maybe he gave up?" He was proud of himself for not letting his voice quiver or break.

"It doesn't seem like him. That poop head always finds a way to come back."

He rubbed his arm awkwardly. "Heh. Yeah...I guess I just have to cross my fingers and hope he doesn't this time."

He could tell Mabel wanted to believe him - could tell that there was something in the back of her head stopping her.

"I feel like I don't even know who you are anymore," she admitted in the quiet.

His breath caught in his throat, his stomach flipping over. It hurt. It hurt to hear her say something like that to him. How could she...how could she  _not_  know who he was?

"Oh,  _Mabel..._ of course you know who I am," he said in a hushed tone as he slipped out of his bed and walked over to her. He sat down on the bed beside her and Waddles, pushing the pig's noise and making him snort. "I'm your little brother - as you so constantly remind me. How could you think something like that?"

She shrugged slightly. "We never hang out anymore. You know...just  _hang out_ \- without monsters or research getting in the way. I miss that, is all. You're always off doing your weird booky nerd things and..." She trailed off with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Dipper."

"Don't be sorry, Mabel. This is my fault," he said quietly, swinging his feet back and forward against the edge of her bed. "I've been so caught up in my own obsession that I've forgotten about one of the most important people in my life, and that she wants to spend time with me."

She seemed to shake off her melancholy in only the way she could do, beaming at him in the darkness. He felt a sharp finger hit him on the nose.

"Bap."

"Yeah. Bap." He gave her a poke in the cheek, making her laugh.

"Yeah. I guess I'm just being a dumb dumb, Dipper."

He slid off of the bed, pulling their makeshift curtain from the window. The sun was already rising, and he gouged the time to be about 7:00 am.

_Ugh. Bill you ass. You coulda let me sleep a little bit longer. Sweet dreams, my ass._

He flicked on the lantern, and she winced at the blinding light, then looked up at her brother. Dipper smiled kindly, tipping his head to the side slightly.

"It's still early - we could make the Stan's some face-shaped omelettes?" He said. "And then we could go to the mall or something?"

A huge smile brimmed across her face and she jumped out of bed. "Let's do it, Bro-Bro! I'll get everything ready!" She raced out of the room. Dipper followed her at a slower pace, letting out a relieved breath as he walked.

_That was a close call - she could have figured me out._

_I can't let that happen again._

* * *

The omelettes, according to Grunkle Stan, were delicious and beautiful. Stanford had scoffed them up as if he'd never seen food before, so Dipper assumed that he thought they were fantastic as well.

He breathed a soft sigh, letting his magic protect his sense of taste from the rancidity of the shack.

"So, Dipper, how're things with you?" Stanford asked him as he sat at the table, stabbing a piece of bacon with his fork. Dipper looked up at him, blinking.

"What?"

"I said; how're things with you?"

He didn't miss the implications behind his words, and fought the scowl trying to flash across his face. He settled with staring at Stanford dead in the eye instead.

"They're fine."

"Really? You been doing much lately or-"

"No. I'm fine. Things are fine." His voice was a little firmer this time, a little bit colder. Grunkle Stan hunched his shoulders down, and Mabel fiddled with the food on her plate, seemingly not noticing the tension that was almost audible. Dipper leaned back in his seat, a smugness flashing across his face as he realized he had his opening. "What,  _sir,_  do you not believe me?" His eyes flickered over to Mabel, who beamed at him when she saw him looking, before he looked back at Stanford. The man eyed Dipper with distrust and anger.

_Imbecile._

He knew he had him pinned. If there was one thing he had in common with the man, it was Mabel. Neither of them wanted to hurt her, and he was certain he had the upper hand in this scenario. It wouldn't sit well with Mabel if she thought their great uncle was accusing him of being up to something.

Stanford backed down from his claim. Grunkle Stan glanced uncomfortably between them, but then continued to eat his food as if there was absolutely nothing wrong.

Dipper pushed his plate away, sliding out of his seat. "Mabel and I are gonna go out into the town today. Don't wait up."

Mabel pushed her empty plate away, getting up. Her expression was bright, but he could tell that in the back of her mind, she was still worrying about him - could see it in the way her eyes would dim  _just a little bit_ every now and again.

He'd have to erase that worry, or she could become problematic. He didn't want her involved.

He shook himself from his thoughts as she let out a cheerful, "Yeah! Grunkle Stan, Great Uncle Ford - is that okay?"

The two Stan's looked at each other, then looked at Dipper, then finally at Mabel and nodded together. "Don't do something stupid - I'm not paying for anything you two break," Grunkle Stan grumbled.

"No promises!" Mabel called, following Dipper as he walked out of the kitchen. She fell into step with him as they left the Shack, walking down the wooden steps.

"So why are we going into town, anyway? I get that it's to hang out together, but we could always do that at the Shack."

"I found this neat ritual thingy in one of the books I've been reading. I want to try it out."

Mabel looked confused as they walked down the path away from the Mystery Shack and into town.

"So...why the mall?"

"Well, you know how last year we found that ghost in one of the unused stores and never exorcised it? What was his name? Magno? Marco?"

"Sure do, Dip-Dop. And it's  _Marcus,"_ she said, eyes taking on that dreamy quality he always assciited with boys. "He was a pretty dreamy ghost. I could have touched that blonde hair all day...if, you know, I could even touch him. Heheh. If only..."

"That's...too much information, Mabel," he said, face scrunching up. "Anyway - I want to test a binding ritual on him. That way, he'll be stuck with me until he gets exorcised."

"Why would you wanna do that?" She didn't sound very approving - in fact, she sounded downright against the idea.

"It's just to see if it works or not. Most of the stuff in the book I'm reading hasn't worked yet, so it's more of an investigation than anything else. Besides, I can unbind the ghost when I done. Easy peasy."

"His name is Marcus. Call him Marcus," she said, but was slowly nodding, as if she understood what he was going on about (though he wasn't sure she did. She had that look in her eye that she got whenever she was thinking about boys). Dipper sighed softly, shaking his head at her.

He turned his attention to the trees and colors spinning around them as they walked the path to town, letting his thoughts wander. He didn't really focus on anything, just picked his way through his mind lazily, until he came across a particular question that irked him.

_Is Bill watching me right now?_

A part of him felt like he was - but he couldn't be too sure. He touched the side of his eye briefly before dropping his hand back down to his side.

"Hey Mabel?" He asked abruptly.

"Yeah, Dip?"

"You...do trust me right? I mean...ignoring what you said to me this morning, of course. I only ask because...well...I get the feeling that Ford doesn't, you know?"

Mabel stared at him, looking a little bit hurt. She punched him hard in the arm. "Of course I do, dumb dumb! You're my best friend!" She tucked her hair behind her ear. "I just worry about you sometimes is all. That's why I said what I did to you...I'm sure it's the same way for them and you're just reading it wrong."

"Heh...yeah..." He rubbed his arm slowly. That punch really hurt.

They walked the rest of the way into town and to the mall in silence. Dipper felt a little bit better, knowing she still trusted him. He didn't know what he would do if she stopped having that optimistic confidence in him - that  _want_  to believe in him.

_Probably burn down the shack. Ha._

Dipper glanced up, brows furrowing.

"Mabel, are those your friends?"

She perked up excitedly, spotting them the same time as he did, racing away from him without a second thought. They were playing a claw machine outside of a toy shop, and Mabel was quick to interrupt them, voice loud and going a mile a minute. He wandered over to them.

"GRENDA MAD," Grenda shouted angrily, punching the machine as the claw dropped the toy monkey it had been holding.

"Hey guys!" Mabel shrieked excitedly, grinning. "How's it going? Seen any cute boys lately, Candy? Grenda, how's Marius?" She asked all of her questions as if she hadn't seen her friends in twenty years.

"Good specimens are very hard to come across at the moment," Candy said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "I suggest a butterfly net."

Mabel laughed goofily. "That would soooo work! Hey, Dip - wanna come boy hunting with us?"

"Eh...no...I'm good," Dipper said awkwardly, stepping away from his sister and waving his hands at them in a 'no no, I'm not doing that' gesture. He rubbed the back of his neck. "But uhm...you and your friends should totally catch up - I have to go to the bookstore anyway. We can hang out later, if you want to?"

His sister nodded her head vigorously. "Yeah! Thanks Dipper! I'll see you later. Okay?'

"Okay."

Mabel gave him a little wave as she and her friends disappeared inside the toy shop, squealing excitedly.

Dipper let out a heavy sigh, then straightened his back and headed away to the empty store beside the book shop at the other end of the mall. When he got to the shop, he glanced around himself and began to fiddle with the doorknob, trying to get it to unlock. With a scowl, he realized it wasn't going to budge, so he wrapped his fingers around the knob and ripped it straight off as magic coursed up his arm. A grin replaced his angry expression as he pushed the door open and then shut it behind him.

With his palm pressed against the door, he managed to twist the air around him and force the knob to replace itself in the door.

It only took a matter of moments for the ghost to appear before him. Dipper could see a white mist twisting around the no corporal being, masking him in a more terrifying image.

"GET OUT OF- Uh. Hey Dipper."

The ghost calmed down when he saw it was just Dipper, laughing as he dropped the facade. He was probably only a little older than him, and looked like a spawn of Sev'ral Timez (cue girly Mabel screaming).

And, most importantly, he was as stupid and gullible as they came.

_Perfect._

"Sup, man."

"What are you doing here?"

Dipper shrugged, fire leaping into his hand before disappearing, leaving only a single piece of chalk in his hand. He threw it up, catching it lazily.

"Oh...you know...wanted to see how you were doing. The usual," he said nonchalantly. He was pretty confident he could do this without the ghost being any the wiser.

A light snigger left his mouth.

_Dumb ass._

The ghost looked surprised, hovering closer to him. "Since when did you learn magic, dude?"

Dipper glanced at him, a smirk toying across his lips. In the back of his mind, he knew this was not how he should be taking the situation - that he should be more alert, that he wasn't _acting like himself,_  but right now he didn't give a single damn. His mental state was already pretty questionable, so why bother questioning it any further? He was going to enjoy this is - morals be damned.

"Since this summer. Do you want me to show you some of the stuff I've been learning?"

"Woah, really? Awesome!"

Dipper bent down, breathing out slowly as he began to draw a circle. He was very careful, making sure there were no gaps. He glanced at the ghost, seeing that he was hovering above the circle, but not outside of it.

Good. He hoped he stayed like that.

Very quickly but carefully, he drew the star in the centre of the circle, then jumped out if the circle.

"Oh - hey, Uh, Dipper, this doesn't feel right," the ghost looked squeamish and uncomfortable.

"Good." A wicked smile flashed across his face. "That means it's working."

He started sketching each memorized symbol outside of the pentagram at each point, making sure the triangular fire symbol was at the top point. After making sure each symbol was perfect and drawn correctly, he stepped away. The ghost started banging aggressively on an invisible barrier, panic in his face.

"Dipper, man, what the hell! I thought we were friends?!"

"We  _are_  friends, Marcus. That's why I picked you."

"Picked me for what?!"

Dipper smiled at him with what he thought was a kind smile. The magic around him stirred, churning wildly. He saw the way it swirled around the pentagram, keeping the ghost in. He saw the way it moved around himself, indulging him with the sweet taste of sugar, searing his tongue and burning through him.

Understanding fell over him. Like the snap of someone's fingers, he began to get what Bill had meant by just letting it  _flow._  He relaxed, feeling his mind let go as pure power rushed through his body, forcing him down to his knees. He felt the wild grin spread back across his face, saw his hands fall flat on the floor. He felt the way the ground rocked unsteadily under him, like an earthquake, and smelt the fire quaking from under his palms. He saw the way it blossomed out across the ground in an unnatural blue glow, encasing the empty shop. He felt the laugh burst from his mouth, heard the maniac in him loving the feeling of pure energy, pure _power._

He sounded just like Bill - was  _acting_  just like Bill.

And _god damn_ , it felt _good._

"Alligavit, unam tenere. Sanguine usque ad mortem, ad mortem usque sanguine. Usque facinus patratur, malles," he chanted lowly through his laughter, keeping his palms pressed to the ground, even as they quaked from his insanity.

_Woah, since when did I know Latin?_

_Awesome._

The words flowed from his lips, not ceasing as the pentagram glowed.

He held one hand up, a knife appearing in the other in a bright flash of blue. Unease washed over him, but was ultimately forced back as the giddiness inside of him took hold. He only briefly hesitated before slashing the knife across his palm. He hissed from the pain, holding back the pained sounds threatening to rip from his lips. Holding his hand out, h let the blood drip out onto the floor in front of him, swallowing a gasp.

"A...Alligavit, u-unam t-tenere. S-Sanguine usque ad m...m-mortem, ad mortem usque sanguine. Usque f...facinus patratur, malles!"

The room exploding in a glow of bright blue light, and he threw up his hands against it. Gaze shielded from it, he let out a sharp yell as he was thrown back against the wall.

The light slowly faded, and the ghost was left hovering on the floor, stunned as he looked at the destroyed pentagram. He looked at Dipper, and Dipper looked back at him.

"...what the hell was that?" He demanded of Dipper, who didn't reply. He picked himself up off the ground and walked over to the ghost, who shrunk away with narrowed eyes.

"You're acting weird, Dipper Pines. Where's Mabel? I don't trust you."

"I'm okay with that. It's not like you can do much to stop me," he said as he knelt down in front of the ghost. "Now; I have a job for you - and you're going to do exactly as I say. Got that? We're on the same page?"

The ghost didn't look pleased, crossing his arms and reluctantly nodding.

Dipper shoved his hands in his pockets as he stood back up, the little smirk toying across his mouth again.

"Northwest Manor. Go haunt it. No violence against the occupants - but  _do_  make sure to damage their belongings."

Marcus slowly got up, furious and hateful, but his semi-visible body dissipated in the air. Dipper only knew the resentful ghost was going out the vent because he saw the lingerings of his snow white magic going out through the gaps.

And then he was alone.

His hand erupted in blue flame again, leaving a bandage in its places when it vanished. He wrapped it tight around his palm and tied it off. He didn't know any healing magic - he was too scared to try shutting the wound with his magic in case it hurt, or made it worse.

He cracked his knuckles, heaving a large sigh as he looked around him.

_God. This place is a mess now._

Dipper straightened his shirt out carefully before going back to the door and unlocking it. He stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

Things so far, we're going okay. Better than he had hoped for.

_Now...time to find Mabel._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you all enjoy reading it and I can't wait to read your reviews. Things are starting to pick up now.
> 
> Next time; we take a visit to Northwest Manor!


	15. Patience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooo! New chapter!
> 
> Starting to get through the chunky meat of the story! It may seem like not much is going on here, but it's all very essential to build this up to get into the apex of the story, which will start next chapter!  
> So get ready, because things are about to go down.  
> Also, I am now tracking the tags 'Gravity Falls: WtL' and 'FilthyMallards' on Tumblr :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.

Dipper stretched out across the bench he lay on next to the smoothie cart in the mall. He'd been sitting there for a good few hours now, just waiting for Mabel. After he'd sent Marcus away, he taken a quick detour to the bookstore and gotten himself a book full of short horror stories thinking they'd be terrifying, but so far they'd been a total disappointment.

_I've fought gnomes. I'm a demons servant, for gods sake/ And a dude with a chainsaw is 'scary?'. Pathetic._

Some of the words, admittedly, were a bit out of his understanding, but he was able to gather what it all meant by the context of the situation within the novel.

Dipper let his eyes close and just breathed slowly, placing the book down on his chest as he listened to the sounds of people's footsteps squeaking across the linoleum floors. He quietly eavesdropped onto a conversation about who did what in a broom closet last night.

_Ew._

"DIPPER!" Mabel suddenly shrieked, jolting him out of his relaxed stupor as she collided with him, shoving him off of the bench and to the floor below. He let out an 'oof' as he fell, wincing as he caught himself on his injured hand. He sat up, twisting to look at her.

"What the heck, Mabel? Give a guy some warning!"

Mabel grinned, helping her brother to stand.

"Your expression was  _priceless!"_  She snorted.

"Yeah yeah yeah, laugh it up," he said, wiping himself off of invisible dirt. Her guffaws cut off abruptly, and she grabbed his arm. "Dipper, your hand! What happened?"

"Oh. Just a mishap in the bookstore. There was a...a nail coming out of one the shelves and I cut my hand in it. No big deal."

She took his explanation wholeheartedly, nodding seriously. "This is why I don't go into bookstores," she said.

 _Of course. That's_ exactly _why you don't go to bookstores. Very forward thinking, Mabel._

"Uhm. Yeah."

"So do you wanna go see Marcus now?"

"Marcus...?"  _Shit._ "...Sure. It'll be good to see him." He flashed her a warm smile, which she proudly returned before dragging him away by the arm.

Mabel chatted to him about what her and her friends had done while he'd been at the 'bookstore', though he only half listened to her mindless babble, occasionally inserting an 'oh really' or an 'aha'. All he really got from the conversation was, 'boys, boys, boys'.

She dropped his arm to walk forward when they arrived at the empty shop, fiddling with the doorknob. She huffed when it wouldn't open, lifting her fist to bang on the door.

"MARCUS! Maaaaarcuuuus! Let us in you poophead!"

 _"Mabel!_ Quit making a scene!" Dipper hissed at her under his breath, looking embarrassed as people started looking their way. Mabel ignored him, stepping back from the door with annoyance.

"I thought we were friends," she huffed.

"Well, maybe..."

"Nevermind!" She pulled a pin out of her hair, bending down and shoving it in the lock. Dipper blanched, confused as to where she would have picked up such a skill.

Actually, no, scratch that, he knew  _exactly_  which old man would have taught her that.

"Uhm...Mabel...maybe you shouldn't-"

"We're in!" She stood up as the lock clicked, and she shoved the door open.

"MAR-cus?" Mabel's exuberant voice grew hushed, staring at the carnage in the shop with an open mouth.

"Oh...wow," Dipper said lamely, gaze flickering around the room he'd burned up. Mabel took a step into the room, pulling her sweater up over her nose to block out the burning stench.

"Dipper...whaddayou think happened here? Do you think he exploded or something?"

"Ghosts don't explode, Mabel."

She made a farting noise with her mouth. "Then what happened? Does the journal have anything?"

"Not that I recall."

"Well, can you look?"

Dipper shrugged his shoulders. "I don't have it, Mabel."

That got her attention, and she turned around to look at him.

"You...what?"

"I said I don't have it."

"But you  _always_  have it!"

Her eyes followed him as he stepped around her, hands in the pockets of his shorts. "Not lately I haven't. Where would I even put it?"

"Your vest-"

"Mabel. I am very clearly  _not_  wearing my vest."

Mabel deflated, sighing down at her own feet. He sighed inwardly, knowing she was just worried, so he placed a hand on her shoulder, getting her to look at him. "Look, Mabes, I know Journal 3 inside and out. There isn't anything in there that can help us."

She scuffed her shoe against the floor, looking more disgruntled than anything.

"This is _baloney._  I thought we were going to have some mystery twin fun. And now I can't flirt with Marcus, and you can't do your magicky thi- hey, what's that?"

Mabel moved quickly away from him through the room, half tripping over an old cashier till that had been blown apart in the explosion. She bent down, picking up something from the ground and turning to face him.

Dipper sucked in a sharp breath, eyes focusing on the sharp knife she was holding, coated in his dried blood.

_Ah shit. Fuck. Goddammitsonofabitchmotherfuckingshitlicker I am so boned. So, so boned._

"Mabel...I-I don't think you should be touching that...it looks dangerous..."

"What is this? Did someone do this?" Her expression was full of worry, and she looked at her brother, who was staring her straight in the eyes with an odd expression on his face.

"Dipper? Do you know something?"

"What? No! Of course not _. Put it down Mabel._  It's dangerous!"

Her mouth pursed into an annoyed look. "Why aren't you all over this? This is like, your whole paranormally thingy, isn't it?"

 _"Look at it_  Mabel, I'm not getting involved with that kind of crap."

"I'm giving this to Great Uncle Ford. He'll know what to do. And don't say crap. It's rude."

It was times like these that he really wished his sister wasn't his sister so that he could  _strangle some sense into her._

Instead, he let out a heavy sigh. He'd have to find a way of getting the knife back later.

"Okay. Fine. Take the knife but can we  _please_  get out of here now? This place gives me the creeps."

Mabel grinned at him, her worry vanishing for the time being. "I knew you'd see it my way!" She bounced out of the room. "I know Marcus'll be okay. The worst that could happen to him is an exorcism, so he'll be in a better place!"

Dipper looked around at the blown apart room, eyes landing on the destroyed circle marked with the symbol for fire.

"Yeah...a better place."

* * *

When they arrived back at the Shack, the first thing Mabel did was tap in the code for the vending machine and race downstairs.

Dipper avoided it, covering his mouth as he headed upstairs.

This was bad. Really bad. He didn't know what to do - how to act.

_Stupid, stupid, STUPID! Why didn't I get rid of it in the first place?! Of course, the one thing she has to be focused on is that damn knife! She couldn't have just, I dunno, let it go!_

He didn't have a clue how long it would take to get results for something like that. His mind kept rotating over possible scenarios - were they going to come barging in right now and interrogate him? Were they never going to find out? Would it take weeks. Months?  _Years?_ Did they even have a blood testing machine down there? He didn't recall ever seeing one. And if they did have one, did they need a sample of his blood? He was pretty sure they didn't have that...but they did have the pages Stanford pulled from the third Journal. Was he...gathering evidence or something?

He didn't know. He didn't know and that was what bothered him.

_Jesus fucking Christ, I'm in trouble. I am in so much trouble._

He unbound his hand, scrunching the bandage up into a tight ball and burning it to shreds as soon as he was in his and Mabel's bedroom, closing the door. His magic blossomed around the fire, eagerly devouring it as he collapsed onto the bed, chucking the book he'd gotten from the bookstore onto the table and looking at the sharp slash across his hand.

There was no hiding the fact that it was purposeful - and it was so obvious what it came from. He ground his teeth together, the books on his desk clattering around to match his anger. He felt his back rise up off of the bed, pulling his closer to the roof.

_Damn it. I'll just have to play this by ear._

He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it up as he took a deep breath. He felt his back hit the bed and heard the objects floating around him hit the floor again. One more deep breath later, and he was sliding off of the bed with a firm expression on his face.

_Never mind. I have far more important matters to take care of. Keep on track._

If he'd been correct in his assumptions, the Northwests would come back to him for help. As far as he knew, Stanford had barely left the shack at all since he'd come back through the portal - so having another, more experienced paranormal investigator in the area wasn't going to be an issue.

There was, of course, the fact that Preston Northwest hated his guts (which was perfectly fine by his standards), but he wasn't too worried about that. He'd be more worried about the ghost destroying his belongings to hold a petty grudge - or at least, that was what he hoped.

And then there was Pacifica.

His eyebrows furrowed as a fresh bandage appeared in the blue flame that erupted from his hand. He began to wind it around his hand.

She really was the key to everything. If he got one thing wrong, it could all fall apart. And if it did...

He'd have to find another way - and so far, he didn't have a Plan B.

_This will work._

Dipper tightened the bandage around his hand with resolution, straightening up.

_It has to work._

He lifted his head, breathing in, then out. He snatched up his notebook, cracking his neck once before heading back downstairs.

_Patience, Dipper. Patience._

* * *

He was sketching a picture of the troll into his notebook, sitting in Grunkle Stan's puffy old chair when there was a sharp knock on the door.

Dipper waited to see if anybody else was going to get the door, before realizing that they were all down in the laboratory. He got up off of the chair and walked to the front door. He pulled it open, scratching the back of his neck, and was immediately greeted by half-hidden, probably bleach blonde hair, sunglasses, and a trench coat.

_Not this again._

"Do you really still need that guise, Pacifica?"

"Shut up, Dipper!" She hissed, pushing past him and into the shack. Dipper closed the door behind him as she faced him, pulling off her sunglasses. "Look...we need your help. Again. There's...ugh. It's only just started - like, literally. Mom and Dad are getting really worried because it's breaking everything! Furniture's being thrown everywhere and whatever it is broke Mom's favorite mirror. She threw a total fit."

He leaned back against the banister of the staircase. "So, another ghost?"

"Will you help us?"

Dipper's eyes narrowed as he crossed his arm over his chest, raising an eyebrow at her. "And what do  _I_  get out of it?"

She looked a little bit surprised by the smugness he felt wash over his face briefly, revelling in the control he had over the situation. He had her right between his fingers - exactly where he wanted and needed her. He could squish her if he wanted to - twist her every which way until he got the results he needed.

_Damn it Bill, you stupid Dorito. You've totally messed me up._

He slid his hand behind his back as he felt flame tickle his palm.

Pacifica huffed with annoyance, reaching into her purse and ruffling around.

"No no no no. That won't do. I don't want your money," he said immediately.

Her brows furrowed. "Then what do you want?"

He tipped his head to the side, thinking. There was only really one thing that she could give him, that could benefit him.

"Information."

"...what?"

"You heard me. I want information, and if you want my help, you'll give it to me when I want it."

She shook her head at him. "You're acting weird," she snapped. _"_ Besides, I don't even know what you'd want to know."

"I want to know lots of things. But we can discuss that once we've exorcised this ghost. Do we have a deal?" He held his non-bandaged hand out to her, and she sighed, snatching his hand up and shaking it.

"You better hope you can do this, Dipper. I don't wanna repeat what happened last time we had a ghost," she said. A brief smile flickered across her face. "Though...it  _was_  pretty fun - you know, _after_  the ghost vanished."

He quirked a smile at her. "It was, wasn't it?"

"Pacifica! Long time no see. How're things with you?" Mabel exclaimed as she came out of the gift shop, stretching slightly. She was wearing a light yellow sweater with a Rastafarian sun on the front, but the taste that hit his tongue was rancid - like she'd just rolled around in a pile of crap for an hour. He let his magic twist around his mouth to disguise the taste.

Mabel's gaze flickered down to their hands, looking confused. The pair yanked apart immediately, Dipper looking at his sister and Pacifica going a little bit pink in the cheeks.

A ten dollar bill was discretely pushed into his hand, and he smiled a little smugly, pocketing it. He looked lazily at Mabel.

"Sup, Sis?"

"Uh...what's going on here? You two aren't up to anything funky, are you?" Her expression said, 'Matchmaker.'

 _Welp. Time to diffuse_ this _awkward situation._

"Nah. There's another ghost making it's home in the Northwest Manor. I'm gonna go check it out. Sounds like a category one."

"...oh." She looked disgruntled.

"Do you want to do this now and get it out of the way?" Dipper asked Pacifica.

She nodded slightly. "Yeah. I don't think Mom can handle another mirror breaking on her when she looks at it."

_Doubt that's the ghost's fault, there, Pacifica._

"Right, well let's go-"

"I'm coming too!" Mabel declared.

_Fucking fuck fuck shit, Mabel. Stop making things difficult._

He grabbed her by the sleeve of her sweater, dragging her into the kitchen. Her mouth pursed up resolutely, digging her heels into the floor to make it harder for him to drag her along.

When they were in the kitchen, he turned to look at her. "No way. You aren't coming."

"Pacifica's my sort-of-almost friend too, Dipper. I want to help!"

"It's dangerous, Mabel. I don't want you to get hurt!"

"So? We've been in worse situations! It's a category one - you said so yourself!" She jabbed him in the chest pointedly, then stopped, gasping aloud as she slapped her hands against her cheeks. "Unless..." A wide grin spread across her face, an odd guffawing sound leaving her mouth. "Dipper and Pacifica up a tree, K-I-S-S-I-"

Dipper slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her continuation.

_Okay, Dip, you got two choices here. Say no and she'll come along, probably won't believe you, and try to play Cupid again. Say yes and she'll most likely go into one of her giggly girl fazes and you can escape._

"...so...uhm...here's the thing..."

"YOU DO. OH MY GOSH, DIPPER!"

 _"Keep it down, Mabel!"_  He hissed lowly.

She giggled, pushing him out of the kitchen. "Go get 'er, Tiger!" Then she slammed the door shut to the kitchen. He could hear giggly, squeaking noises from behind the door.

"What's  _her_  problem?" Pacifica asked as he opened the door, walking out of the house and trusting that Mabel would inform the Stan's that he was going out.

"I don't know. She's insane."

"Your whole family is insane."

He laughed, looking at her. "And I'm not?"

Pacifica turned her head to look at him as she put her glasses on. "...you're a different something all together, Pines," she said. The little pull at the corner of his mouth seemed to put her off slightly, and she swiftly turned her head away, pointing at the limo. "Get in."

_Fuck yeah._

"Hell yeah I'll get in. Limo! Awesome!" He jumped into the backseat, moving all the way to the other end and stretching out across the seats.

Pacifica rolled her eyes as she got in behind him, closing the door. "Get your feet off the seat," she said. Dipper didn't move a muscle. She rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers. "Wordsworth - home."

The driver didn't say a word as he pulled out of the Mystery Shacks parking area, just obliging her wishes.

Dipper closed his eyes, relaxing slowly. The ride was silent. Pacifica obviously didn't want to say anything - and he preferred it this way. Silence was good. Silence let him think clearly - helped him discern his movements. His next move was obviously getting rid of the ghost, but he had to gain Preston's trust first...and to do that...

He looked down at his clothes.

_In retrospect, I probably should have worn something a little more presentable._

_Oh well. Fuck it._

Dopper glanced at Pacifica, taking his feet off of the seat and sliding over to her. She looked up at him.

"I never asked, but...how are things with your parents now?"

She seemed to think for a moment. "Once I started telling them no, things got better. They're still pretty rigid when it comes to how I behave in public, but they got rid of that _freaking_   _bell,_  so..." She breathed out slowly. "So it's something."

"I'm happy for you."

Pacifica shrugged stiffly. "Well, I mean, I guess I should probably thank you. It's you who let it happen, sorta, I guess."

"Thanks, Paz," he said with a lazy grin.

She looked annoyed by the nickname, her nose turning up slightly as an embarrassed blush crossed her cheeks, but she didn't comment on it.

Dipper wondered if she had ever had a nickname before - she didn't look like the type that was given them often.

The driver slowly went up the hill that led to the huge manor, entering through the large gates, which immediately swung closed behind them.

Dipper's gaze fell on the peacocks wandering around the lush green lawns - it probably took gallons of water to keep it that bright shade. The driver parked the car around in the garage, which was lined with multiple others cars. Dipper jumped out on his own while the driver opened the door for Pacifica to get out. He whistled at a bright red corvette, staring at his reflection in the surface of the shining paint.

"Cool."

"Ugh. You're such a boy," Pacifica said, grabbing him by his arm and dragging him inside.

"MOM! DAD! WE'RE BACK!" She called down the hall. He followed her quickly through the winding halls. It was a wonder that she didn't get lost in a place so big.

Finally - after walking for what felt like forever, they stopped at a pair of large double doors, which Pacifica knocked on and then pushed open.

His eyes fell on Pacifica's mother first. She was talking to someone on the cellphone whilst putting on bright red lipstick.

 _Eugh. She's uglier than a road splattered hedgehog. Heck, being splattered across the road would probably be an improvement on_ her _god awful face._

Preston Northwest was seated at an office desk, looking thoroughly annoyed with what was placed in front of him. Dipper followed Pacifica to the desk, stopping beside her as he investigated the large white sheet of paper spread out across the desk. They looked like plans for a new building - probably a new business judging by the Northwest company logo written across the top of the page. A clothing store, by the looks of it. He caught scribbling across the page which read along the lines of different sizes in the store and where things might be placed. Pacifica's name was all over the paper, so maybe it was going to be a place named after her? That seemed like something the Northwests would do. Pacifica cleared her throat discretely and he looked up.

"Oh, Pacifica! It's good to see you're back," he said exuberantly. His gaze twisted to Dipper as his face shriveled up, nose scrunching. "And you brought along the Pines boy, I see. Good..." He looked Dipper up and down with an aristocratic and judgmental air. He didn't like what he saw, obviously.

"I'm very happy to help, sir."

The man straightened up smugly, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at his wife, who was powdering her cheeks now, her phone call finished.

"Glad to hear some manners come out of your mouth, boy."

"I guess you could say I've done some growing up lately, sir. In hindsight my actions at your party last year were really quite troublesome. You have my sincerest apologies," he said smoothly.

Pacifica was staring at him like he was a completely different person, her brows furrowed in confusion and her mouth open.

"Your mouth, Pacifica, you'll catch flies," Preston and Dipper said together. They looked at each other as Pacifica closed her mouth, still looking bewildered. Preston looked impressed.

_Dumb ass._

"Riiiiiight...well...Dipper says that this one should be really easy to get rid of. It's like, a number one or something," Pacifica said.

"Category one."

"Whatever. So, uhm...we're gonna go now."

She turned and walked away quickly, Dipper following her. He paused when he reached the door.

"Mr. Northwest, sir?"

"What is it, boy?"

"If you want the store to be successful, you shouldn't just focus on it being a teens store. You should try to cater to the older members of the Gravity Falls public too - you know, because they all wanna seem young and youthful, not old and wrinkly. They'd pay a ton of money for something like that - not to mention this town goes  _crazy_  when it comes to things the Northwest's endorse."

"It's true," Mrs. Northwest gasped, piping up. "Everyone wants to stay young forever. Not that  _I_  need to look young and youthful, of course...I mean...look at me." She smiled, exposing what Dipper could only describe as horse teeth.

_Neigh neigh motherfucker._

Dipper bit his lip to stifle a snort of laughter.  _No no no. Stay on track. Don't blow it._

"Not bad...Pines. Not bad at all," Preston said, nodding at Dipper with approval.

He gave a little dip of his head before turning to follow Pacifica, one corner of his mouth pulling up into a smile as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"What was  _that?"_ Pacifica demanded as he caught up with her.

"Nothing you need to worry about."

"You were like another person in there."

"Sometimes you have to put up a front to get what you want, Pacifica." His eyes narrowed, unable to stop the cruel vindictiveness eliciting from his lips. "Surely you know  _all about that."_

Pacifica stared at him with surprise, and he stared back with a cocky arrogance. Finally, she cleared her throat.

"Let's...let's just...hurry along, okay, Pines?" She quickened her pace and he followed her at a leisurely pace.

They soon arrived at a dark wooden door. "This is my parents room, so just...don't touch anything in there, okay?"

"Yeah yeah, I won't."

She nodded, pushing the door open. Dipper entered first, surveying the trashed room. It was no wonder they'd called him in so quickly. The room was a bomb site. The bed had been torn to shreds, and things had been tossed around, smashed, and broken. The wardrobe was open, and the clothing that had been inside had all be shredded into tiny ribbons. Pacifica was clutching onto his shoulder with a vice-like grip, even though he was pretty sure she knew their lives weren't in danger.

After a long few moments, she whispered, "So. Where's your book?"

"Didn't bring it. Don't need it. Wait outside, okay? This won't take long."

"What? No way! You might make it worse."

"Trust me, Pacifica. You don't want to be in here when I get rid of this thing."

She seemed hesitant, but finally nodded and left the room. He locked the door. Dipper shut the door behind her as he watched his magic accumulate around him in a fervent shade of dark blue.

"Marcus! Come here!" He hissed under his breath as he walked around, looking at stuff in the Northwests room.

There was silence for a moment, then, "You're a nasty little-" A furious voice behind him began.

"Be  _quiet!"_  He ordered, and the ghost fell silent. Dipper looked up at the floating being, fiddling with a golden necklace. He pocketed it as he leaned back against the armoire.

_This could go for a few bucks. Buy gold, right?_

He smiled. "You're free to go, man."

"...what?"

"Yeah dude, you did everything I needed you too. Sorry about the whole binding you to me thing, but I knew you wouldn't do it otherwise. Hurt me more than it hurt you, though."

_"...what?"_

"Just don't go telling any of this to Mabel, alright?" His expression darkened, his feet leaving the ground as things began to burst into flames. He could see his magic spinning around each item of fabric and furniture and jewelry within the room. "If you do, I swear I'll hunt you down and  _tear you apart._  I'm doing all of this for her, you understand?"

The ghost didn't answer.

_"Do you understand?"_

"Uhm-uhm, yes! Yes, I get it!"

The objects settled, and Dipper's feet touched the floor again.

"Good. You've got  _some_  sense of self-preservation, at least. Now get out of here before I really  _do_  have to exorcise you."

The ghost didn't need another hint. He disappeared straight out a window, leaving only a trail of floating snow-like magic behind him.

Dipper sighed, stretching slightly and hearing a small, satisfying pop from his joints.

_Well, that went easier than expected. I'm getting good at this type of thing._

"Dipper?! Did you do it? What's going on?" Pacifica demanded, trying the doorknob and banging on the door from outside. He pulled it open, and she fell inside.

"Yep. We're all finished here. Easy ghost to exorcise. Told you it would be," he said as he grabbed her hand and helped her up.

"Oh...Uh, yeah." She rubbed the back of her neck, combing a hand through her blonde hair. "You did say that." Her eyes roamed over the mess in the room. "Gosh...this place is a pigsty."

"Isn't it? Kinda reminds me of the time we trashed the carpet."

Pacifica laughed. "Oh yeah. That was so much fu- _oof!"_  She fell back onto the bed when Dipper picked up a pillow and threw it at her. He already had another in his hands when she sat up with the one he'd thrown at her.

"My parents will kill me if these are ruined, Dipper!"

"They won't know it's us. Blame it on the ghost." He whacked her arm with the pillow.

She gasped angrily at him, letting out a furious huff. She raised the pillow and hit him hard around the side of the head with it.

"There you go!" He cheered. She rolled her eyes but laughed as they began to hit each other with the pillows. Dipper ducked under her pillow as she swung it at him like a bat. He got her hard in the stomach, making her bend over with a grunt. He laughed, only to get a burst of feathers in his face when Pacifica's pillow burst apart, and she jumped backwards with her own victorious laugh. Dipper spat out some feathers, taking the opportunity to get in a good hit of his own, feather exploding out from within the silk pillow.

Pacifica shrieked with joy, kicking her feet against the bed, before relaxing and watching the feathers drifting down. She stopped kicking, turning her head to look at him.

"Thanks, Dipper. That was...fun."

He said nothing for a while, dropping the pillow on the floor.

"Is this all you needed from me?"

"Uhm, yeah...Thanks..." She scratched the back of her neck. "Do you...wanna finish your side of the deal? I don't know if I have any information to give you though - whatever it is that you want."

He tipped his side of his head, thinking, then shook his head.

"No...not right now. But don't forget about it. When I ask you for it, I'll ask you for it, got that?"

Pacifica shrugged. "Yeah." She twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. "I guess you should go."

Dipper raised an eyebrow. She looked bored, her brows furrowed at the white ceiling.

Could he use this? Things were going really well at the moment. If he was good friends with Pacifica, he could stay close to Preston - could further push him into trusting him.

"We could hang out some more. If you want to," he finally said.

"You'd want to hang out with me?"

"Sure, why not? I like you well enough."

She rolled her eyes and sat up. "Yeah, Dipper, that'd be...that'd be really fun. I don't know if my parents would approve though..."

"Who cares? I'm fucking awesome."

"Potty mouth."

"I'm nearly fourteen - don't reprimand me."

Pacifica shook her head at him as she led him away from her parents room and back to the set of double doors.

"Dipper, my boy!" Preston exclaimed from his desk, looking positively jovial.

_You better be proud of me, Bill. This is painful. So painful._

"Why don't you stay a while - get comfy. Better yet, why don't you come and take a look at the plans for the new store? You seem like a smart young man who knows what's 'in' and 'cool'-"

 _"Daaaad._ Me and Dipper were gonna go hang out. Can we do this later?" Pacifica complained, stamping her foot lightly on the ground.

He had to admit, it was good to see she'd grown a backbone since he'd been gone.

Preston looked at his plans briefly, seemed to think for a moment, then clapped his hands together.

"Oh, yes yes, of course,  _of course!_  Go out and play and whatnot, but  _do_  come back sometime."

"I will, sir," Dipper said with a polite nod. "And I'll make sure I'm in something a little more presentable next time."

That seemed to be the exact right thing to say, because Mr. Northwest pulled a handle full of bills from his wallet, waving them at him.

"Go buy yourself something nice, my boy. There's more where that came from if you keep up this  _chipper, forward thinking_ attitude."

Dipper stepped forward, taking the money with a polite thank you and a promise to visit later, and then he and Pacifica left the room once more.

Pacifica covered her mouth and laughed.

"Oh my gosh, he's like, trying to buy you."

"Correction; he's trying to buy my help."

"Pfft. Same difference." She waved her hand dismissively as he pocketed the cash. She gave him a little shove with her shoulder. "So. I was thinking we could go to the mall and go get some candy and clothes and stuff - maybe look at some cellphones..."

He tuned her out after that, rolling his shoulders.

Everything was going a lot smoother than he had expected - and he'd gotten his own little...compensation from it all, too.

But he couldn't help but wonder just  _why_  Bill wanted him to get close to the Northwests - why he wanted him to keep an eye on Preston. The man seemed too arrogant and close-minded to get mixed up with the magic of Gravity Falls...so...what? Was it something Bill could see was going to happen in the future?

That seemed like a plausible scenario. The demon wasn't omniscient for no reason, after all.

_Could I ask him? Would he even tell me?_

_Probably not._

But...even so, Dipper still wanted to ask him.

_Okay. Tonight. I'll meet with him again tonight and ask him about it._

He lifted his head, looking at the mansion around him.

He had a feeling he'd be spending a lot more time here, this summer.

* * *

It was late when Dipper got home, that night.

He was absolutely exhausted, his feet dragging across the floor. Pacifica had tasked him with carrying everything she bought from the mall - which was  _a lot._ He'd gotten a few bits and pieces for himself, with Pacifica's fashion sense to guide him.

It had been the most awkward day of his life. The eyes of people in the mall had followed them the whole time. He could see the Gravity Falls newspaper headline now; _' PACIFICA'S NEW BUE?'_   Ergh. Horrifying.

Mabel stalked him like a lion, finally pouncing when they were getting ready for bed. "Sooooo...how was Pacifica?" She asked from her bed, hands pushed up against her cheeks as she giggled.

"...what?"

"Did you two make out? Please tell me you made out."

"Ew, Mabel, gross!" He slipped under his blankets, turning his back to her and pulling the covers over his head. "Nothing happened and nothing's going to happen. This isn't something you can fangirl and squeal about, okay?"

She laughed. "Like  _that's_  gonna stop me!"

He let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes.

_Bill...take me away from this horrible atrocity, before she starts scrapbooking, please._

And just like that, he was out like a light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you're all still enjoying the story! Big things are coming.  
> Thanks for reading and reviewing! I have a tumblr - ask me something at filthymallards.tumblr.com!


	16. Losing Grip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't proofread this because I have been super busy with school stuff lately! If there are any outrageous mistakes or story discrepancies, please tell me so I can go back and fix them.
> 
> So; do enjoy. I hope to have another chapter up later this week.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.

"I must say, Pine Tree, I'm very impressed with you! To think, not even a month ago you were fighting against me! Heh. Brings a tear to my eye, it does!"

Dipper's eyes opened blearily, watching the demon wipe a fake tear from his eye through his own blurry ones. Bill sniggered as Dipper shifted and lifted his head. He was sitting on the floor beside the door, instead of at his desk where he usually woke up. He cracked his neck to the side, wincing as he pushed himself up the wall.

"Shut up, Bill," he groaned.

The demon flung an arm around his shoulders, the door leading out into his mindscape flinging open.

"Now, now, Pine Tree, don't get so defensive! We're pals now, and that's not how you speak to your friends!"

Dipper looked at him incredulously. "Dream on, man, you're my teacher. That's weird."

"I'm not just your teacher, idiot."

"You've lost me."

Bill shoved Dipper through the door, and it slammed shut behind them.

"You turn yourself inside out and look inside that little brain of yours, Pine Tree, and you'll find me. Oh don't look at me like that, you won't  _literally_  find me - what I  _mean_  is, kid, you're just like  _me._  Heh."

"You've said all this before, Bill."

"Doesn't hurt to reinforce the sentiment. Especially when you look around." He made a sweeping gesture with one arm, and Dipper's gaze followed his movement.

Oh.

_Oh._

"Oh."

His mindscape was... _different,_  to say the least. Now that he was actually paying attention to his surroundings, and not to Bill being an idiot, he began to notice the changes.

And they weren't subtle.

The sun no longer hung in the sky, beaming down at them in its cheerful brightness. Instead, the full moon shone a dark, muted light down upon them. It highlighted the trees and gave them a grotesque appearance, like they were twisted in an unforgiving dance. The branches were broken limbs, reaching out in desperation.

Dipper really couldn't say whether they actually looked like that, or if it was just the shadows.

But what stood out to him the most was that they were completely bare. There wasn't a single leaf or pine needle covering the bareness of the bark, contrary to how the leaves usually stood out in the summer. He heard a soft crackle underfoot as he stepped backwards, looking down and seeing dead foliage beneath is feet.

"What...Bill...I don't understand..." He breathed. He saw his breath fog out in front if him, catching in the stillness. A coldness filled his body, leaving him shivering. He felt under dressed in his sleepwear.

"Well, ya see, kid, it's simple! The more you change, the more your mindscape changes! It's your subconscious, after all."

"But...But I-"

"Admit it, Pine Tree. You can say you get it all you want. You can say you know you've lost it as much as your red flesh pump desires, but you really  _don't understand._ You're different now - and unless you get our act together, people are going to notice. We can't have that, can we?  _Especially_  not Shooting Star-"

He whirled on Bill furiously. "I already told you! LEAVE HER OUT OF THI- OW!" He held his hand over the bump forming on his head where Bill had whacked him with his cane, forcing his feet back to the ground as they began to rise.

 _"Relax,_  kid!  _Seriously!_ You're gonna blow a gasket - and I can't lose my pawn just yet. We've still got work to do."

He pushed Dipper forward with his cane, making him walk through the woods with the trees that seemed to dance. They scraped against his face, and he winced way from them, feeling blood well up on his cheek. He covered his face with his hand, looking at bandage. He'd have to ask Bill about healing magic.

Before he knew it, they were back at the lake. It was different in the dark. It felt more dangerous. More decrepit. Just more...more everything.

He didn't like this place. He didn't like his  _mind._

For the first time in a long time, he couldn't help but feel horrified by himself.

_What's happening to me?_

He sunk down onto the rocks on the lakeside.

"Pine Tree, I picked you for a  _reason._ Stop acting like some self-martyring hero," Bill complained. Dipper's head hid in his knees, so he continued, hovering next to him. "Look, kid, you're  _good_  at magic. One of the best mortals to perform it that I've ever seen. Most people would have cut off their tongues and fed them to their dogs by now, but hey! Look at you! You still have the ability to speak - so you're going pretty well in my books!"

Dipper looked at him, then picked up a stone, throwing it into the lake. He felt satisfied by the 'plonk' sound that echoed around them.

He grunted when Bill grabbed him by his hair, pulling down so his head was forced up to look at him. The demon pulsates red for a moment.

"You're my eyes, Pine Tree.  _Don't lose grip now._ You break your end of the deal, and I break mine. Got that?"

Dipper swallowed, hating the implications and threat. "Yeah...I got it. I'm sorry." He shook himself, standing up. "I'm fine."

"Good. Because I have another job for you - on top of you keeping an eye on the Northwests. Gotta keep you busy kid, ya know, or you'll try and run off."

"Heh. Yeah..." Dipper shoved his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders against the cold. "What do you want me to do?"

Bill casually relaxed in the air. By now, Dipper had started to realize that the dream demon had...ticks. Things he'd do when he was feeling a certain away. One of those ticks happened to be in his attitude, when he wanted something - badly. Relaxed, cocky, prideful.

Bill  _needed_  him to do this.

"Well, Pine Tree, you know how you investigated that tree stump for me?"

"...uh...yeah..." Dipper thought back to when he and Mabel had gone for a walk down to the swimming hole.

"See, that place holds a special... _significance_  to me." Dipper didn't miss the hiss in his voice, or the red pulsation of his eye before returning to normal. The yellow of Bill's body vanished, being replaced by a wheel of symbols - one he'd seen plenty of times before, which was then ejected out like a projector, lined with blue. The images on the wheel spun around slowly in a circle, the image of Bill in the center remaining still.

_The one from the third Journal...? What the hell is going on?_

He looked at the demon as he returned to his normal yellow color, his eyebrows drawing down together.

"Wow. You really haven't figured this out yet? Hm. I'm a bit disappointed in you, Pine Tree. I thought it would have been obvious," Bill half sneered. The wheel stopped turning, and Bill pointed at one of the little pictographs within the cipher wheel.

A pine tree.

A fucking  _pine tree._

Dipper stared at it for a moment, then looked at Bill, then back at the wheel, then finally back at Bill again.

He slapped a hand against his face.

"Idiot! I'm so stupid. Of course!" He looked at the floating triangle, who had a particularly smug expression in his eye.

"You knew this whole time, and you...you..." Dipper groaned with frustration. He stood up, pacing back and forth aggressively, hands clenched at his sides as blue fire burst around them. He stopped, back facing the demon, and took in several deep breaths. He turned back to look at Bill.

"What does it mean?"

"Kid, seriously, you don't need to know-"

_"Tell me what it means!"_

_"Yeesh,_ kid, calm down! You'll blow a blood vessel or something at this rate!" Bill said, palms facing outwards at Dipper in a placating gesture. Dipper swallowed his anger and confusion.

"Each symbol represents a person. You've guessed that already, right?" Dipper nodded the affirmative, eyes roaming every symbol on the wheel.

"I'm the Pine Tree. God! It's so fucking obvious."

Bill nodded in agreement. "It really was." He touched the projection, spinning the wheel around. When it stopped rotating, the Pine Tree was at the very top of the image. And next to it...

"Is that - Is that Grunkle Stan's fez?"

"Ahaha. Sure is, kid. And there's your friend Red, and Question Mark - oh, and would you look at that, it's Shooting Star!"

"Mabel?!" Dipper stepped up to the projection, breath catching as the connection between Mabel and the name Bill had given her finally clicked together. He rest his hand against the projection next to her symbol. Fear clutched his gut.

Why was she on the wheel? What did she have to do with anything?

_Oh god, what if this is one of those things like in the movies where we are like, special sacrifices or something and we're all going to die? I'm too young to die!_

His eyes searched frantically around him as he panicked, then fell back on Mabel's symbol within the cipher wheel. Was there really no way he could protect her from all of this?

"I...I..."

"I know what you're thinking, Pine Tree, but it ain't like that. She doesn't have to get involved."

"Then why is she on here?"

Bill was silent for a while. It was enough to draw Dipper's gaze away from the wheel and up to him, meeting his eye. It wasn't like the demon to be silent.

"The stump," said Bill. His voice barely interrupted the quiet.

"The stump," Dipper echoed.

"Destroy it."

_...what?_

"What?"

Bill's eye narrowed and he rubbed his hands together. He looked like he was thinking hard.

"Just do it. Stop asking questions."

Dipper opened his mouth to argue, but then thought better of it. Part of him realized that there was a  _much easier way_  for a Bill to do this - and that it wouldn't have a happy ending. His eyebrows drew down as he thought. He rubbed his chin slowly, considering his options, before sighing.

"What do I need to do?" He eventually asked.

"Well, in lieu of doing something a bit more... _extravagant-"_  Dipper shivered at the way he said it, confirming his suspicions. He hugged himself against the bitter wind. "-I want you to...procure a blood sample from each individual upon the wheel."

Each image flashed in front of him, the shapes changing to encompass different faces. At the top, he saw himself, and then Grunkle Stan, Wendy, Soos, Old Man McGucket, Robbie, Mabel, Pacifica, Great Uncle Ford, and  _uuuuugh, Gideon._

Gross. He didn't want anything to do with the little dweeb.

"Pacifica?"

"Good observation," he said sarcastically.

"Shut up. Is she the reason you wanted me to get on with the Northwests?"

"You're right on the money, kid. You really rose to the occasion, I'm telling you! Boy did you go all out!" The triangle laughed. "You know, you're surprisingly suave when you need to be, Pine Tree."

"Oh," Dipper said lamely. "Uhm. Yeah."

"Anyway! Blood samples. Just one drop is enough."

"...what does that have to do with that stump in the woods? And what about Gideon. I can't get it from him."

"That no-can-do attitude is gonna have to go, Pine Tree. I've got no room for nay-sayers in my plans. As for the stump, it's like a said before. That's on a need to know basis. And you don't need to know. What you do need to know, is that you need to carve the wheel into the tree stump. Each blood drop has to be placed upon the right symbol for each person, or it won't work. And that's it."

"That's it?" Dipper repeated, bewildered. "You're not going to tell me what this is going to do, are you?"

"Not a chance."

Dipper sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets as he crunched icy leaves beneath his feet.

"Okay...fine," his gaze flickered up to Bill. "But this won't hurt my sister will it?"

"As long as we've got this deal going, kid, I can't touch her."

His face set, his eyebrows drawing down.

He was sure his expression matched the bitterness of the weather.

"...I'll get it done."

"I'm counting on you."

* * *

Dipper stirred, opening his eyes.

He had fallen out of his bed during his sleep, and was current laying in his side, a sharp pain in his shoulder. He sat up, rubbing the sore bone.

A sharp snoring drew his attention over to Mabel as she rolled around her bed with Waddles in her arms.

At least she was having good dreams.

He clutched his head as the image of her shooting star flashed through his mind.

Now...now would be a perfect opportunity, he knew. She'd probably sleep through it if it was just a little nick to the end of the finger.

Slowly he picked himself up as blue fire enveloping his palms, leaving a knife and a small phial and stopper in his hands when the flame disappeared in a plume of smoke.

The phial had Mabel's symbol on Bill's cipher wheel emblazoned across it.

Dipper stopped at the edge of her bed, setting the phial down for a moment and staring down at her palm, open against the pillow, as if inviting him to cut it open. He bent down, holding her hand down against the pillow and pressing the point of the knife into the pad of her finger. His hands shook violently, and he stepped backwards to regain his composure. The side of his leg slammed into the edge of the table between their beds, a pile of books falling to the floor with a resounding 'smack'.

The noise boomed in the resounding darkness, and he swore under his breath, dropping the knife on the table and steadying it back into silence.

Mabel stirred, her eyes opening blearily.

"...Dipper?" She slurred. His breath caught, staring down at her. He couldn't breathe. Oh god, what if she saw the knife? What if she-

"Go back...to sleep...dumb dumb." She muttered tiredly, rolling away from him and letting her eyes slip closed again.

He stared down at her and released an unsteady breath, slipping down to his knees.

Dipper knew he was hyperventilating - he could hear his ragged breathing reverberating through his whole body.

_I...I...Oh dear god, what's happening to me?_

His insides felt dirty and sick. He needed to vomit, but he held it back.

A hand clapped against his mouth, repressing the sound of his sobs.

He couldn't believe he'd been about to do that - to his own sister. He didn't think he could do this for Bill. He couldn't willingly hurt his own sister. Couldn't make her bleed - not even for a single drop.

_But I have too. I have to or...or..._

He'd be breaking the deal if he didn't.

It was either a drop of blood, or a dead body burning.

Dipper's hands gripped his knees so hard his knuckles were turning white.

He couldn't relive that. He couldn't relive seeing her so consumed by fire again.

Eyes closed, he steeled himself once more, and lifted his head back up to her.

_Just a nick._

He stood up.

_Just a drop._

He picked up the knife, feeling his grip tighten on the handle. He noted the bandages wrapped around his palm, and remembered that he hadn't asked Bill about healing magic.

_One. Just one tiny little drop._

Once again, he held her hand down. He was careful to be gentle, scared he would wake her - and this wasn't an act he wanted to be caught in the middle of.

_Just do it! Get it over with!_

He placed the tip of the knife against the pad of her finger, giving it a little spin to slice the skin. Mabel's face pinched briefly, before relaxing again. Blood welled up in the small incision, and he fumbled around for the phial, placing it against the cut. His hand shook so badly he could barely keep it in place, but eventually, a tiny bead of red slid into the bottle and he drew back, putting the plug into the top to cap it.

Relief didn't even begin to describe the feelings inside of him. She wasn't awake, her finger wasn't really bleeding that bad, and she probably wouldn't even notice it in the morning.

The knife stayed in his hand as he stepped away from her bed. His magic spun around him in a way he hadn't noticed before. It was slow and free flowing, performing a soft, soundless serenade. When he watched it for long enough, he felt calmer and more relaxed.

Shaking off the horrified feelings churning within his gut, he bent down in front of his suitcase in hid the phial in one of the pockets, underneath his underwear where he knew no one who valued their nostrils would dear to go.

For once, being a slob was working in his favor.

He spun the knife in his hand, adjusting his grip on the handle as he closed his suitcase and walked downstairs.

The way he saw it, the quicker he got this over with, the better. Part of him worried that maybe he should be questioning Bill's motives more. He knew that whatever was going on, it wasn't good. Like,  _at all._

But another, larger part of him kept thinking of  _Mabel_  and what Bill could do to her if he broke his side of the deal - of what he  _would_  do to her if he did.

It was enough to terrify him into obedience, despite how desperately he wanted to fight back.

He purposefully missed the fourth step down the stairs because it creaked when it was stood on, as well as the seventh and eleventh, before walking timidly to Grunkle Stan's room. The old man didn't wake up for anything, and he was sure he could take a drop without him noticing.

Really, it was only the  _other_  relation of his in the house that he had to worry about.

He'd deal with that one later.

Dipper's footsteps stopped outside Grunkle Stan's door, and he slowly pushed it open before slipping inside.

Deep, loud snores hit his ears as soon as he walked inside, coming from the unmoving lump in the bed.

He tiptoed over to the edge of the bed as a fresh phial and stopper appeared in his hand, this time one with his great uncle's crescent shaped symbol on it.

Dipper peeled the blanket away his uncle slightly, only for it to be yanked back up as the man turned over in his sleep, grumbling something about taxes. He bent over, touching the tip of his knife into his pinky finger, giving it a little nick. He pressed the phial to the blood as it welled up, letting a drop spill into the container before putting the stopper in it. It wasn't nearly as hard to willingly hurt Stan as it probably should have been, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind.

It might have had to do with the fact that just being around Stan left a bad taste in his mouth. His magic sizzled against the sickly green coating the old man.

Dipper wasted no time getting away from him, face screwed up.

He began to start towards the the stairs again, intent on getting a few more hours rest before the sun rose, only to freeze when he heard quiet footsteps.

"What are you doing, Dipper?"

A torch light shone in his face, and Stanford stood a few meters away from him, feeling like that  _sickness_ from downstairs on the laboratory.

_He must have just come up._

"...I just came from the kitchen," he said in a hushed voice, leaning against the wall with his hands behind his back. He slipped the phial into his pocket easy enough, but the knife wasn't so easy. Stanford wasn't stupid. He'd notice the fire if he got rid of it.

I'm just going to have to play this out by ear.

Stanford took a step closer to him, and Dipper sidled towards the stairs, keeping his back pressed to the wall.

"I never heard you in there. Getting a glass of water, were you?"

"...yeah."

His great uncle narrowed his eyes in the darkness, shining the light up and down Dipper's body.

"What are you hiding, boy?"

"Nothing."

"Then you wouldn't mind showing me your hands right?"

"What...you don't trust me or something?" Dipper intended for it to come out as hurt, but instead it sounded more like a challenge. His voice was nastier than he meant it to be.

"You'll have to forgive me for that. I don't trust easily. Not that you've really given me any reason to trust you."

"I'm your great nephew, shouldn't that be reason enough?"

"If it was, you wouldn't have any reason to hide your hands, would you?"

He had him, and they both knew it. Slowly, Dipper raised his hands from behind his back.

The older man looked a little put off when there was nothing in his hands, only a bandage wrapped around his palm.

"Well then. Thank you for showing me," said Stanford brushing past Dipper with a final, mistrustful look.

Dipper returned the expression, then headed back upstairs.

That was way too close for comfort.

He was right. His great uncle was going to be a hard nut to crack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! All done for this chapter! Sorry it's a bit shorter than usual, but really, I thought it was good too end it on Dipper and Stanford's interaction. Originally, I was going to compile the collecting of the blood samples into one chapter, but it just didn't flow that well, and the ending just didn't seem to work. As for who's who on the wheel, I kinda just went off a theory I'd seen. For the least obvious ones, Wendy is the Ice Bag (I'm not sure why, to be honest. That's just where the theory put her), Stanford is the hand because of his nickname 'sixer' due to his six fingers. Pacifica is the Llama because in the Northwest Mansion Mystery episode, there's a shot of a llama painting that seems kinda randomly put in, so a lot of theorists are thinking it relates to Pacifica upon the wheel. The glasses are McGucket (again, I'm not sure WHY that is, but the theory said it was because he was really the only character that we know about who could remain.)
> 
> ANYWAY. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. I hope you are all looking forward to the next chapter.


	17. Purloin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls!

The sun beat down on Dipper as he kept his feet under the water, lightly moving one foot back and forth beneath the cool liquid.

"What up, man."

Dipper turned his head to see Wendy walking through the bush towards him, smiling easily.

"Hi, Wendy," he said, glancing back down at his feet.

"Mabel told me you might be out here," she said, sitting next to him. She undid the laces on her boots, pulling them off. Her feet splashed into the water beside his.

He shrugged nonchalantly. They were out at the swimming hole, and although Dipper didn't feel up to actually  _doing_  any swimming, he enjoyed the tranquil feeling of just being out in the woods, not doing anything. He'd even skirted the stump, taking a different path to his little oasis, just so he didn't have to think about doing...doing  _it._

"Why didn't she come herself?" He asked.

"Dunno. She said she didn't want to bother you."

Dipper bit his lip. He'd been pretty short with her this morning, but it was only because he was having a mini panic attack. Really, any sane person would freak out if they thought their grandfather was onto their ritualistic plan that may or may not destroy the world. So, really, his reaction was perfectly rational.

He had gone straight back to bed after the confrontation with Stanford his heart beating a mile a minute. He'd been lucky that Stanford hadn't seen him slide the knife into the waistband of his shorts and under his shirt, or things could have gone downhill really fast.

But holy  _shit_  it had been an uncomfortable walk back upstairs.

"Oh...yeah..." he said lamely. He hated how quickly he began to pinpoint the most efficient way to injure her just enough to draw blood - in fact, it made him incredibly queasy. The bramble bushes would scratch her, but unless the cut was deep enough, it wouldn't draw blood.

He hated that he couldn't avoid doing  _it._  He hated it he hated it  _he hated it._

Bill really had him pinned.

Dipper leaned backwards, placing his palms behind him as he felt a little bit of fire tickle under his palm, watching out of the corner of his eye as his magic spun around the area of blue. His sharp vision caught the way the brambles on the bush became sharper and longer, and caught the way the wind picked up, pushing Wendy backwards into the bush as she started to adjust herself into a more comfy position. She hissed with pain, pulling herself out of the bush with a barrage of swearing.

Dipper stood up quickly, expression concerned as he walked over to her, snapping his fingers behind his back. Fire engulfed his palm, and he felt the solid weight of a phial resting in his hand. He tightened his fingers around it as he leaned down next to her.

"Oh man, are you okay?"

She grimaced, looking at her arm. One of the brambles had sliced through her flannel and into her arm, tingeing the green with red.

"It's cool, man. Just a little blood. Nothing I can't handle." She stood up, and as she did, he wriggled his pinky finger. A drop of red split off from the cut, floating in the air. He swept his arm out, letting it drop into the phial, before capping it and shoving the bottle into his shorts. Wendy gave him an odd look as she turned around, and he smiled confidently.

All of this felt too easy. Part of him wanted a fight - not neccesarily from her. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but he just wanted to let out some of this anger he kept feeling.

"Maybe we should head back," he said after a moment. "I kinda left Mabel in a bad way..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "But that seems to happen more often than not, nowadays."

Wendy gave him a slap on the back. "You've just hit a rough patch, dude. It'll sort itself out. You two are like, the closest people I know. Nothing gets between you two."

He looked at her as he picked up his shoes, not bothering to put them back on as he started making his way away from the swimming hole. Wendy grabbed her own, looking at her arm in annoyance.

"I'm beginning to question that more and more lately," he sighed.

"Since when did you become an angsty little dork, Dipper?" Wendy snorted.

"Since I sold my soul to a demon."

Wendy gave him a sharp look, but Dipper cracked a smile, and she relaxed.

"Dude, that was like, not cool. You tell the worst jokes. Like  _ever."_

"Haha. Yeah. Jokes..."

The rest of the walk back to the Shack was quiet, except for their breathing and the crunch of branches under their feet. Dipper considered telling her about the journal he was writing, but then decided against it. She'd probably just think he was half mad or something.

"Hey, Dipper?" Wendy suddenly asked as they reached the front door of the tourist trap. Dipper looked at her, feeling irritable as a foul taste swept over his tastebuds. His magic fizzed around his face, trying to block out the taste of the laboratory reeking from below.

So Stanford was probably downstairs.

_Good. I don't want to run into him._

"What?"

"Well...just quit being a dork. We're all worried about you. Even Stanford, I bet."

"I don't know what you mean. I'm perfectly fine." He didn't want to have this discussion, turning his back to her. She grabbed his shoulder, turning him back around to face her.

"You gotta admit, you've been acting pretty different lately. Like, ever since you got to Gravity Falls it's like-"

"I said _I'm fine,_ Wendy,  _lay off."_  He grit his teeth, fingers clenching into his palms as he shrugged her off.

_Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!_

"Then quit this 'the world hates me, so I hate everyone in it' act! For real, man, it's getting ridiculous."

 _"Maybe I do hate everyone in this fucked up place! And you know what,_ Red? _Maybe that includes you. So lay_ off!" He spat viciously at her, slamming his clenched fist into the door to emphasis his point. His breathing was erratic and quick, and he could feel a furious heat curling up in his body. Wendy stared at him, her mouth forming an 'o' shape. Her shock was palpable. He didn't think she'd ever actually seen him pissed off.

"Okay, man. I hear you. I'll lay off." She backed away from him slowly, heading back towards her bike which was leaning against the wall.

Dipper didn't wait to see her leave, pulling the door into the gift shop open and then slamming it with a bang.

Okay...so maybe that was a  _little_  extreme, but  _holy shit_  was she annoying! He couldn't believe he'd ever had a crush on her.

"Woah, dude, long time no see. You havin' a door slamming contest or something?"

Dipper turned his head, seeing Soos putting out more Stan bobbleheads.

"Sure. That's  _exactly_  what I'm doing," he said sarcastically.

"Ha. Awesome. Did you win?"

_Idiot._

"Yeah," he said distractedly, eyes falling on his tool belt.

_Perfect. Two in one hour._

"Soos? Can I see that box cutter for a second?"

"Oh sure, dude!" Soos pulled the box cutter out of his belt and handed it over.

Dipper stared at it, eyebrows drawing down as he flicked the locking mechanism, trying to push the blade up.

"Is it broken?" He asked.

Soos lifted his hat and scratched his head.

"I dunno, dude. I'll fix it up later."

Dipper nodded, handing it back. As he did, he unlocked the blade, pushing it up and digging the blade into the handyman's palm.

Soos jumped back off of the stool, making a noise that reminded Dipper of the pterodactyl from last summer.

"Oh...I'm sorry, Soos! It was an accident!" He said, looking horrified as blood dripped onto the floor.

 _How are these people so_ stupid?

"Nah, dude, it's okay! I'll just get a band-aid and it'll be as good as new! Stan'll kill me if that stains though!"

Dipper jolted up, back straightening. "I'll clean it up! You go get a band-aid!"

Soos sent him the thumbs up, and he returned the gesture as the man-child left the room. He dropped to his knees, careful of the phial in his pocket as another appeared in his hands in the same burst of flame that the others had. He placed it against the drop of blood, coaxing the drop in with a light wave of magic. The drop slid to the bottom of the bottle as he stood back up, putting the stopper in and putting it in his other pocket. A quick snap of his fingers cleaned the rest of the blood up off of the floor.

_Why didn't I make this deal ages ago? Magic makes everything so much easier._

Dipper left the gift shop, poking his head into the kitchen where Soos rummaged around in the first aid kit. "I'm all done," he said. His fingers gripped the side of the door, digging into the wood as he shifted around on his feet.

"...Is Mabel upstairs?" He continued, glancing up the staircase.

"Uh, no...I don't think so, dude. Her friends came around not long ago and took her out. She's okay though, right? She looked pretty sad when she left."

"She's fine. Probably just saw something she didn't like. Like stop animation or something," he said dismissively as he began to head upstairs. He called out his thanks to Soos as he quickly raced up to his and Mabel's bedroom.

He pulled Soos and Wendy's phials from his pocket and drew their symbols onto the bottles with his finger. He left a little black question mark and an ice bag on them before setting them out on the floor in front of him. He put Mabel's and Grunkle Stan's next to them.

_So...I have the Question Mark, Ice Bag, Fez, and Shooting Star. I just need Glasses, Hand, Pentagram, Stitched Heart, Llama, and..._

Dipper ran his fingers through his hair.

_And the Pine Tree._

He swallowed a little.

The only two that really bothered him were Hand and Pentagram  _(Stanford and Gideon, Dipper. Use their names)._

He'd have to come up with a plan to get them.

Dipper put the phials back into his suitcase and closed it, breathing in deeply.

Gideon wouldn't be too hard to get, he didn't think, if he planned it correctly. After all, what was a maximum security prison against a magically super charged teenager?

He could just break in, and they probably wouldn't bat an eyelash - most people in Gravity Falls were like that. The town was full of imbeciles, after all, but that didn't mean he wouldn't stake out the penitentiary first - just to be sure. He could probably even let Bill possess him again and  _woah woah woah, Dipper, stop that train of thought right_ now, _what the hell is wrong with you?_

He shook his head to himself. He had to stop thinking things like this.

But his other option felt a bit more...stable and more likely to work.

Yes. He'd go with that one.

Dipper pulled himself up. "Okay. Here we go," he muttered to himself.

He walked back down the stairs, fire tickling his palm as another phial appeared in his hand. He was two steps away from the living room, eyeing up the phone when a hand clapped down on his shoulder, spinning him around.

"What are you doing, Dipper?"

His great uncle stared down at him sternly, looking at the phial in his hand. Dipper clenched his hand around it, feeling panic fluttering around in his chest though his face was blank.

"Uh...going to see Pacifica?"

"The girl that used to be pick on Mabel? You're friends with her?"

Irritation rushed in him and he scoffed with anger. "Yeah? So what? Besides - Pacifica doesn't even talk to her anyway, so what does it matter?" He challenged, shrugging Stanford's hand off. He placed his hands on his hips, eyes narrowed up at the man.

He couldn't believe he'd once  _admired_  this jackass.

When he said nothing, he let out a hiss of annoyance. "Can you just like...go away?  _Seriously._  Stop hovering over me like I'm about to  _lose it_ or something. It's super annoying. I _get_  that you don't trust me - heck! I certainly don't trust you! But for  _gods sake,_ I'm your fucking grandson and I just want to go hang out with my friend!"

Stanford said nothing for a while, his eyes still on the phial.

Dipper glanced down at his hand, at the bandage wrapped around the cut on his hand.

He could practically feel the moment his stomach dropped.

_Idiot! Idiot, you're so stupid, Dipper! God!_

"If you wanna know what happened, ask Mabel, because I don't have time this." He snapped as he marched into the living room, picking up the cellphone and flipping open the Gravity Falls phone book in search of Pacifica's phone number.

All he could think about as he looked down the page of 'N' was that Stanford was  _dangerous._  Too dangerous. If he found him out, found out that he was the one who had done the ritual, he was going down.

And Bill would probably rip his family apart.

_I can't fail._

He pressed the call button after dialing in Pacifica's number.

_Let's go, Dipper. Play time is over._

* * *

"So, anyway, it was like,  _ridiculous_  that Aleisha could even  _think_  I would want to wear that ugly dress, like, what the  _heck?_  It wasn't even Burberry!"

"...Blueberry?"

"Burberry, Dipper. Burberry."

Dipper's eyebrow twitched when Pacifica gave him a condescending pat on the shoulder. They were walking down the street to the ice cream parlor in the middle of town, enjoying the summer heat. Pacifica was wearing a lilac dress and purple belt with black tights and brown boots. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat, and she was fanning herself with what Dipper thought was probably an authentic Chinese hand fan.

_Rich people._

Dipper was holding her jacket in one arm and carrying her shopping in the other because, once again, he was playing the part of a pack mule. He seemed to be good at that.

"Sorry that I'm not as fashionably capable as you," he said sarcastically. He tugged his hair back, nose wrinkling as he felt sweat slicking it up. He was wearing a pair of shorts (because he'd refused to wear jeans like Pacifica had asked. WAY too hot for that), a short sleeved flannel, and some dark converse - all courtesy of Pacifica and her abundance of wealth. Apparently, he wasn't fit to her standards, and if they were going to 'hang out any longer he was going to have to sort out his... _everything',_  as she so kindly put it.

So here he was,  _again,_ lugging around her things, feeling uncomfortable in his own skin, and plotting how he was going to get her blood into his phial. He swore under his breath as he tripped over a rock.

"Careful with those!" Pacifica snapped.

"Carry your own things, then!"

"Eugh, gross, no! That's what servants are for!"

"I'm not your servant."

_I only have one boss, and it sure as hell isn't you, you sadistic fucking-_

Pacifica's laugh cut off his thought process, and he relaxed his glare. "Calm down, Dipper,  _god._  I've already called the butler. He'll pick up my stuff from the ice cream shop."

"I hate you," he said, mouth quirking up into a smile. She whacked him with her fan, rolling her eyes.

"I hate you too."

Dipper's nose twitched slightly, blue dust spinning around a fingernail. It became sharper and sharper, pointed like a knife.

The snap of his fingers a few seconds later made her stumble over her feet, and she let out a squawk as she fell. Dipper caught her hand, cutting her palm with his nail as he pulled her back up. She didn't seem to notice.

Pacifica cleared her throat awkwardly. "Thanks, Dipper. That could have been really embarrassing," she said stiffly.

"It's no trouble," he said, mouth quirking up into a light smirk.

She wiped invisible dust off of herself, then jumped backwards with a shriek as she spotted blood on the lilac dress. Then she looked at her hand, color washing out of her face.

"OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD I'M DYING DIPPER, I'M DYING-"

Dipper touched her shoulder, expression one of concern as the magic readjusted his fingernail. She looked at him, panicking.

He was starting to feel a bit exhausted with the amount of magic he'd been using today, but he fought off fatigue. He'd pulled too many all nighters to not be used to the feeling by now.

"Calm down, Pacifica. It's just a little bit of blood," he fought to keep the sneer from his voice, though he did roll his eyes. "Put pressure on it for now. It'll stop bleeding eventually," he promised. She nodded, pressing the pad of her finger against the blood.

_God, she's such a wuss. A little bit of blood and she's pissing herself._

_Oh well._ He stretched a little, readjusting his grip on her bags, he was a little surprised he hadn't dropped any of it. _Let's hope this way works just as good as the others._

* * *

"So...Pacifica..." Dipper said slowly, spinning his spoon around his ice cream cup. His was a boring vanilla (which suited him just fine) while Pacifica's was cookies and cream with ground up almonds and chocolate bits on top.

"Mhmm?" Pacifica said, watching him.

He shifted a little, leaning forward over the table.

"This might seem like an odd favor to ask...but I need your help with something...you see...I was doing some research into last summer, and..." He trailed off, biting his lip like he was thinking.

"And what?" She prompted.

"Well...you remember Gideon, right? Gideon Gleeful?"

"The kid who spied on the whole town?"

"Yeah."

"Of course. What about him?" She took a spoonful of ice cream and popped it in her mouth. Her hand had a little bandaid on it, courtesy of the shop assistant.

He laced his hands together, looking her straight in the eye. "Well, I think he was set up...not to mention he's only  _nine!_  Nine year olds can't go to prison. It's not right."

Pacifica sat back in her seat, looking shocked by his admission.

"But...he tried to destroy your home, right? Shouldn't you  _want_  him locked up? Or like, sued or something?"

He waved his hand at her, dismissing the problem.

"That was...that was a long time ago. I'm sure he's over whatever he was try to pull."

And if he wasn't...well. Dipper would beat him into smithereens. His hand twitched excitedly at the thought of punching that little brat in the face - or burning off his hair. That'd be hilarious.

He swallowed the sudden bile that rose in his throat.

He shouldn't be enjoying thinking those things. Not at all.

"Look, Pacifica. All I'm asking is for you to get me a meeting with him. You know? I just...I want to talk to him...and tell him what I think. Is that okay?"

"Well...yeah. I think I can do that. I mean, my family name is pretty influential in case you don't remember."

"It's hard to forget."

She smiled a little, eyes mischievous.

"I'll have it done in the next few days."

"Perfect." He said. His eyes drifted down to the band-aid on her hand which she kept fiddling with, pulling it on and off lf her hand.

"It's hideous, I know," she complained. Her irritation was visible on her face when he let out a snort, and she was quick to rip off the offending medical aid. She held it in front of his face, and he recoiled from her, face screwing up.

"Throw it away," she demanded.

"What? Ew, no! I don't wanna touch your smelly band-aid!"

"But Dipper!" She stamped her foot on the ground.

He scowled, grabbing the tissue his sundae cup sat on and used it to grab the band-aid. Inwardly he was cheering himself on for his ingenuity. He walked over to the trash can across the store, tying the bundle in a knot with the bloodied band-aid inside. He made like he was dropping it in the garbage, then slipped it into his pocket, face scrunched with how gross if was.

_Fuck you, Bill. You ass. I just know you're enjoying this._

He sighed, thoughts falling back onto Mabel, and his throat closed up.

_The things I do for you. The things I do._

* * *

The air was stagnant and unmoving in the hot summer night. Dipper grimaced as he hovered in front of Robbie's window, cutting a circle into the glass with his finger, like one of those cool spy gadgets he always saw in the movies. He held a knife in his other hand. The piece of window fell out once he'd joined the circle end to it's start, and he slipped quietly through the hole. His floating feet stayed hovering above the ground as he drifted over to Robbie, who was sound asleep on top of his blankets, passed out and snoring. His eyeliner was smudged over his face.

Dipper looked at a phial as it appeared in his hand among flickering flames, this time etched with a broken heart. He smirked, spinning the knife around between his fingers.

If he was going to take pleasure in hurting one person - just one - it was going to be Robbie.

He felt a grin cross his face, not even trying to quell it this time as he pinned Robbie's wrist down to his bed, still clutching the bottle as he placed the knife against his forearm. He counted to himself slowly, feeling his grin widen as he slashed the knife hard against his forearm. A second later, the knife had vanished and he was turning Robbie's arm over, blood pouring into the bottle.

Robbie jolted up in his bed, and Dipper felt himself press backwards against the ceiling in a corner behind the frazzled teen. He looked down at his arm and started swearing violently when he noticed the cut, racing out of the room. Dipper took the moment to cap the phial and get back out through the window. The piece of glass he'd removed floated up, surrounded by waves of blue, and slotted back into place.

He hit the ground a moment later, cracking his knuckles as he took a deep breath.

_So...that leaves McGucket, Gideon, Stanford, and me._

This was going all too well for him. He hoped it stayed that way.

* * *

"Dipper! Where the heck have you been?"

Mabel was sitting nervously on her bed as he climbed through the window, twiddling her thumbs. Her nightgown was pulled over her knees. She was surrounded by stuffed animals. When she saw him, she jumped off of her bed, looking at him with a tight expression.

"Out."

"Out where? I heard you getting out of bed and climbing out the window!"

"Just  _out,_  Mabel, God, don't be dramatic about it,"

"It's 4:00 am, Dipper! What's so important that you have to be out at 4:00 am?"

"Lots of things."

"You aren't answering me!"

He lay back on his bed, feeling the phial in his pocket. He quirked a smile at her that seemed to make her uneasy, though he meant it to be reassuring.

"You're right. I'm not. You wouldn't understand."

"But...but how do you even know that when you won't talk to me about it."

"Believe me. I just know."

Mabel was silent for a long time, just watching him as she rest her chin on her knees.

"You're acting weird."

"I know."

"I thought maybe Bill was possessing you again...and that was why you were being a big doo-doo head."

He looked at her. His expression didn't change, but his voice dropped the edge it had to it.

"I know. But he's not. You're just going to have to trust me on that."

"I  _do_  trust you," she said. She took a deep breath. "But...it's getting harder to believe that. Dipper...you aren't the same anymore. You're always angry at something, or scowling at people when you don't think they're looking. You're out at all hours of the night, and you just...you act like our whole home disgusts you." She picked at a bit of fluff on her nightgown. "You don't even dress the same anymore. It's like you're a total stranger."

Mabel looked back at Dipper. He could tell she was expecting him to say something, Anything to deny what she was saying.

"People change, Mabel. It's called growing up. Sometimes you can't fight the power. It's either accept and embrace it, or destroy yourself." His voice was harder than he intended for it to be.

"And I choose to accept it."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this was satisfying enough for you all! I have a tumblr - send me an ask at filthymallards.tumblr.com


	18. Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do enjoy. There are probably mistakes all over the place in here. I'm eager to get this story finished so I have done some pretty poor proof-reading. So...sorry for that o.O
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.

"This is fucking disgusting..."

Dipper picked his way through McGucket's tin shed home in the junkyard. The man looked like he'd up and left a long time ago - where he'd gone, he didn't know, but he couldn't find the laptop, so he assumed he'd taken it with him when he'd run off. He'd been a little irritated when he'd first noticed - having the computer could have probably helped him out, but he'd calmed down reasonably quickly. Bill hadn't specifically asked him to retrieve it, after all, so it can't have been that important to him anymore.

"Dipper!" A shrill voice called out loudly. He froze up, lifting his head.

_Mabel._

He swore to himself, picking his way carefully through the junk, searching around himself quickly for a hiding place.

Had she followed him? Or was it a lucky guess?

Either way - she'd actively gone looking for him.

_Mabel, you idiot. Stay out of this!_

He pulled the top of a crate open, slipping inside and then pulling it closed quickly.

"Mabel, I don't think he's in here," another voice said - Wendy's. He watched them step inside the tin home through a small gap in the wood, peeking through with one eye. A scowl crossed his features.

"I want to have a look. He's acting weird, and I'm determined to find out why," Mabel said firmly.

_So much for trust._

"And what makes you think this is the place to be?"

"My twinstincts are tingling."

Wendy shrugged her shoulders. "Good enough for me, man."

They walked past the crate he was hiding in, beginning to rummage through McGucket's belongings. He couldn't see much of what was going on, but he heard the occasional, 'Ew, gross!' or 'That's disgusting!" when they found something particularly offending.

Dipper shifted a little, trying to get a little more comfortable. His breathing was soft and quiet.

Mabel made an odd little noise in the back of her throat, catching his attention. her fingers were gripping a rusted old cooking pot when she turned to look at Wendy, white at the knuckles.

"I just don't know what to do, Wendy. He's been acting so strange lately...I worrying about the dumb dumb, you know?" She set the pot down, walking over to the crate and sitting down on it. Dipper tensed up, his whole body stiff as a board and unmoving. Mabel kicked the crate with her feet, jarring him inside, but still, he remained paralysed

"I want to trust him, I  _do,_  but every time I  _look at him,_  I don't see my brother anymore. All I see is a jerk and a stranger."

He held his breath.

_...Is that what she really thinks of me?_

Half of him wanted to burst out of the crate, and hug her - tell her everything was alright, that they'd figure something out. That they'd get rid of Bill as a team.

The other half of him - the darker, colder side of his personality, the side that he  _knew_  had been growing since his first meeting with Bill, kept him sitting where he was, hands clenching into fists of anger.

He wasn't necessarily angry at her...more at himself. He couldn't believe he'd let things get this bad between them.

_You're doing this for her. Remember that._

"Look, Mabel, I can't really know how you feel," Wendy said. Her voice was soft and comforting. "But, y'know, maybe he's just going through a faze? I think it's a boy thing."

Even though Dipper couldn't really see her face, he could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

He could tell by the rather violent kick Mabel gave his crate that she didn't believe that for one second.

"Dipper wouldn't act like this, just because he's 'going through a faze'. Something wonky is going on!"

Wendy sighed. "C'mon, Mabel...let's just go back to the Shack. He isn't here."

Mabel jumped off of his hiding place, echoing her sigh. "Yeah...maybe he's already gone back home?" Her voice was tinged with something hopeful, but her back was blocking his vision now so he couldn't gouge her expression.

"Yeah. Maybe."

He listened to their footsteps tracking back outside, and relaxed slowly. Time ticked by, but they didn't come back.

After a good ten minutes, he clambered back out of the crate, brushing himself off.

"Okay...where was I..." His eyes roamed around McGucket's home, trying to remember which pile of trash he'd been looking through before. He didn't have to look far, because his sharp eyes fell on something that hadn't been there before.

A tooth.

He walked over to the pile of garbage it was lying beside - it looked as if it had fallen out of the pile while Wendy and Mabel had been rummaging through it. The tooth was all yellowed and had a big hole in it, but that wasn't what interested him.

The crusted up blood at the roots of it was.

Dipper inspected it silently, fiddling around in his pockets and pulling the phial he'd created for McGucket out. He placed the bottle beside the tooth, then screwed up his face as he flicked it inside.

_Ew. Now I have to wash my hand._

He put in the stopper, dropping it back in his pocket as he straightened back up.

Gaze moving around the garbage in McGucket's home, Dipper thought of who was left to collect from.

_Gideon, Stanley, and myself._

Until Pacifica called him and gave him the date and time for his meeting with Gideon, he'd have to wait.

He fiddled with the bandage wrapped around his hand as he walked out of the tin shed.

Patient. He needed to be patient.

* * *

Dipper was stretched out in the seat beside the window upstairs in the attic, his notebook in his hands as he read over the information he'd previously written within it.

He'd been sitting in the seat for the last few hours, mostly just thinking. He cast his gaze down towards one of the floorboards that he'd pried up, frowning as he thought of the phials he'd stashed away underneath the wood. It had seemed like a safer place for them than in his suitcase.

Arriving home had been...awkward, to say the least. It had only been Wendy in the gift shop, and when he'd given a stiff, 'hello', she'd only responded by lifting her magazine over her face so he couldn't see her. He had been able to hear Stan in the museum beside the gift shop, saying something about the Jackalope, and then the sounds of cameras snapping photos.

Mabel and Stanford, though...he hadn't seen hide or hair of them since being back, but if the taste that had made him want to puke as he passed the vending machine was anything to go by, they were down there.

_Probably still are._

Dipper sat up with a sigh, twirling his finger around in the air slowly, combing his hand through the strands of blue. His magic danced around his palm and tickled his finger tips.

He snapped his book shut as he rubbed his head, feeling the onset of a headache. He had so much to do, but it all relied on Pacifica being able to get him in to see Gideon. It wasn't like he'd offered her anything in exchange for getting him some time with the kid, so she could just back out of their agreement if she wanted to.

He stood up, stretching slightly as he tucked his book under the floorboard with the phials.

He just had to clear his mind, and focus on one thing - and right now, according to his growling stomach, food was his top priority.

He wondered if Stan had bought groceries recently.

Dipper was about to put some bread into the toaster when the phone rang. His head snapped up when he heard the sound cut off abruptly. He set the bread down, making his way out to the living room.

"Of course, Pacifica, I'll tell him."

Dipper stopped in the doorway as Grunkle Stan hung up the phone, turning his head to look at his grand nephew.

The pair of them stared at each other for a long time. The silence stretched out indefinitely. Dipper didn't think they'd really had an actual talk since he and Mabel had come back to Gravity Falls, and  _man_  the silence was awkward.

Finally, Dipper cleared his throat. "I never heard you finish up."

"Uh, yeah." He said. "What are you doing, going seeing that Gleeful boy?"

"That's none of your business."

"It's entirely my business, Dipper. He almost took the Mystery Shack!"

He clenched and unclenched his hands, pushing air out his nose with annoyance. "I just want answers, okay? Answers for all of the things he did."

"We know why. So he could get the Journals and Mabel."

"But...it just doesn't seem  _right!"_  He argued. "I feel like I'm missing something big here." He breathed slowly, expression begging.  _"Please,_  Grunkle Stan. I need to do this!"

He took his fez off his head and scratched his hair. Paper green notes with Lincoln's face on them fell around him.

Cheapskate. He probably pickpocketed it.

"I don't know, kid..."

"He's in a maximum security prison, Stan! It's going to be  _fine!_ And Pacifica will be with me too, as well as security guards! Please."

"What about your sister-"

"I'm doing this for her. She deserves to know too, but there's no way in hell I'm letting him get his grubby hands near her."

Stan gave him an appraising look as he replaced his fez, picking up the money he'd dropped.

Finally, he straightened up, watching as a bus pulled up outside the shack.

"Fine, kid, knock your socks off. She said tomorrow at eleven, okay?"

A relieved smile almost grew across his face, but he quelled it into a determined frown, nodding. "Thank you, Stan "

"Yeah yeah, whatever, just be careful, okay? He's not to be trusted."

"I hear you loud and clear, Stan.  _Loud and clear."_

* * *

Dipper walked slowly down one of the prisons hallways. The area he was in was obviously designed for the staff, judging by how cleanly it was in comparison to the cell block he'd passed through on his way in. He was right on the heels of a guard, who was looking mighty suspicious and worried. It was the only reason that he knew Pacifica's way of getting him time to talk to Gideon was not totally legitimate in the eyes of the law (he assumed bribery was involved. Always fun.) He'd made sure to get plenty of sleep last night in preparation for today's task. He presumed Bill had played a part in helping his head hit the pillow.

"Are you going to be watching us?" He asked as the guard glanced around the corner of the hallway to make sure no one was around. He looked young for a guard, and he must have been relatively new to the job judging by his demeanor.

"No. I have to get back to my station before anyone realizes I'm gone," he replied briskly, ushering Dipper around the corner quickly.

They stopped at a doorway not far down the corridor, and the guard pulled off a belt of keys, grabbing one and using it to unlock a door. Dipper glanced at the room number. 3b.

"Okay, in you go. The camera inside is broken, so don't worry about that. I'll be back in about ten minutes. I'll lock this room until I come and get you. Don't try and leave, or I'll be in huge trouble. Got that, kid?"

 _"Sir yes sir."_ He mocked.

"Good."

He pushed Dipper inside and then shut the door. He heard the keys jangling in the lock, then quick footsteps walking away.

"Well well well, if it ain't Dipper Pines, come to see Lil Ol' Me! What brings you to this here  _fine_  establishment, hm?"

He turned his head, seeing Gideon Gleeful seated in one of the two chairs in the room. His feet on the table. A pair of tiny handcuffs were secured around his wrists. He sat down in the seat opposite Gideon.

The pair surveyed each other silently, equal amounts of disdain screwing up their faces. Gideon hadn't changed at all in the year since he'd been away. He still looked like the tiny bastard of a megalomaniac that he was - and his hair was still half of his height. How he managed to keep it like that while locked up in a cell was a complete mystery to him.

Finally, Dipper leaned back in his seat, one arm lazily flung over the edge of the chair as he swung back on two legs.

"Say, Gideon," he said lazily, a smile tugging at one side of his mouth. Gideon straightened in his seat, pulling his feet off the table as if his rival's attitude had somehow surprised him. Dipper inspected his nails, a faux air of indifference surrounding him. "How'd you like to get out of here?"

The question caught the fake psychic's attention, and his eyes narrowed. The expression reminded Dipper distinctly of Waddles. He held back a snigger.

"What are you playin' at,  _Pines?"_

_"Oink."_

"What'd you say, boy?" Gideon hissed out.

"Nothing," Dipper dismissed. He leaned forward in his seat, elbows on the table with his fingers laced together. "You see, I have this...shall we say,  _associate,_ who's taken an interest in something only  _you_  can offer him."

Gideon said nothing, but his brows furrowed as if he was trying to work out what was going on.

"And what might that be?" He asked after a moment.

His smile was almost predatory. "All I need is one drop. One itty bitty drop of your blood, and I'm on my way. At the price of your release from this place."

"You actually think  _you_  can get me outta here? You're outta your mind, Pines."

"Never said I wasn't," Dipper countered smoothly. He cocked an eyebrow at the younger boy. "There's no harm in just saying yes, you know."

"Now, now, Pines, we both know how to play this game. I'm not just gonna say yes without a lil' more information." He rest his hands on the table, handcuffs jangling. "For starters, why not tellin' me who your  _lovely benefactor_ is?"

Dipper thought it over for a moment.

"Someone you've made deals with in the past," he finally said.

Gideon hummed slightly, sitting back in his seat.

"I've made a lot a deals in my eleven years, Pines. That's not all too specific."

"Really?" Dipper said. His voice was mocking, cruel, and  _goddamn, he was enjoying every second of it._  He unlaced his fingers and curled a hand under his chin. His other hand he held out in front of Gideon. Slowly, he began to curl his fingers in towards his palm. Gideon blinked, his hands coming up to clutch at his neck. He began to choke as Dipper's fingers continued to clench up. His eyes flickered to the teenager, down to his hand, then back to his face. When the psychic began to go blue in the face, he relaxed his hand and Gideon heaved in a huge gasp of oxygen. He stared at Dipper as if he'd grown a second head, to which he just smiled pleasantly, sliding his fingers back between each other, propping his chin up on them.

"Well, is that specific enough for you?" He asked cockily.

Gideon looked like he didn't know what to say for once.

"You...you made a...with Cipher? You, of all people?" He eventually got out.

"That's what anyone with a brain would assume, if they were in your position, Gideon." Dipper replied as his hand burst into flame under his chin. He reached across the table towards the convict. His smile didn't drop for an instant. "So. Do we have a deal? A drop of your blood for your freedom?"

Gideon was leaning as far back into his chair as it would allow him. Dipper was beginning to feel annoyed. Why wasn't this brat just shaking his hand? Surely it wasn't  _that_  hard a decision to make!

His expression darkened considerably, and the fire began to glow brighter.

"Unless of course, you'd like me to take it by force."

Gideon stood up quickly, anger blossoming over his face and turning it a peculiar shade of red. Again, Dipper was reminded of a pig.

"How dare you threaten me, boy!" He seethed. "I'll destroy you! I'll destroy you  _and_  I'll destroy your family! As for Mabel, I'll-" Gideon cut off suddenly with a squeal. Dipper had stood up so fast that he'd knocked his chair across the floor, his arm pressed hard against the boy's throat. The room shuddered, objects beginning to float up into the air. Dipper and Gideon lifted into the air, the smaller boy sliding up the wall with an odd whimper.

_I shouldn't be enjoying this, I shouldn't be enjoying this, I shouldn't be enjoying this._

The two chairs burst into flame and crumbled into ash. The table smashed against the wall of the room and broke into pieces.

"How  _dare_  you underestimate the things I'm capable of, you filthy little brat," he spat at him, so angry that he could feel his arm shaking against the kid's throat. Gideon didn't look so sure of himself anymore, the fear written across his face. "How  _dare_  you threaten my family!" His grip tightened. It was different, seeing his magic do the dirty work compared to doing it himself. He didn't like this. It was too...too personal.

He didn't  _like_  personal.

"You better think  _long and hard,_  Pentagram, or you  _might not wake up tomorrow,"_  he warned.

"Okay, okay! You got yourself a deal! Just  _put me DOWN!"_

Dipper's demeanor switched almost instantly. Their feet touched the floor again, and he smiled, brushing invisible dust off of Gideon's shoulders. The table reversed its previous path of destruction, repairing as if it had never happened, and the chairs reformed from their ashes.

"Glad to see you've come to your senses."

He held his flaming hand out to Gideon, who begrudgingly snatched it up and shook it. They pulled apart immediately.

Dipper stepped forward, grabbing the kids arm as he pulled a phial and a pocket knife from his pocket.

"I just need your finger."

The ten year old held a single finger out reluctantly, and Dipper flicked up the knife, using the very tip of it to prick the pad. Gideon winced a little, but otherwise didn't flinch away. He turned his bleeding finger over, pinching the sides of it and allowing a single drop to splatter into the bottle.

"See? Not so bad," he said as he put in the stopper and flicked the knife back into its compartment. He slid them into opposite pockets.

The kid grumbled at him, eyes narrowed. "Alright - now cut these stupid things off an' let's go!" He held up his arms, pulling the cuffs as far apart as they could go, just as there was a knock at the door.

_Ah. Perfect timing._

Dipper stepped backwards, towards the door as his smile turned more devious. Tormenting the pathetic brat was too much fun.

"You should learn to make your deals clearer, kid."

"What're you talkin' about, you nut job!?" Gideon demanded.

"I promised you you'd get your freedom. I never specified  _when."_

The ten year old stared at Dipper with growing realization and horror.

"No!  _No, that ain't fair!_ You tricked me!  _You tricked me!"_

Dipper pulled the door open, giving him a two fingered salute.

"So long, Gideon.  _Do_  enjoy the remainder of your stay here."

 _"Pines, don't you dare walk out on me!_  We aren't done here, we-!"

Dipper slammed the door in Gideon's face, and the guard carefully locked it, giving him an angry glare, because  _clearly,_  slamming a door was going to draw attention.

"Well. That was quite a productive meeting," he said they walked back the way they had come, keeping as silent as possible.

His insides twisted, but he continued to smile.

He'd just done a horrible thing, and he couldn't feel bad about it.

He lifted his head, blowing out a puff of air.

 _Wouldn't_  feel bad about it.

* * *

The door creaked open and shut behind Dipper when he returned to the shack. The house was oddly silent for the time of day it was - usually there would be a tour going on in the museum. Neither Soos or Wendy was around in the gift shop, so he assumed that Stan had closed up shop early.

Warning bells rung in his head.

"Mabel?" He called out loudly.

He didn't get a reply.

Dipper's gaze drifted to the vending machine, swallowing the foul taste that hit his tastebuds as he slowly walked towards it. The machine was cracked open, coaxing him in as it pulsed with an eerie light - a color so murky he couldn't tell what it was, even with his sharpened sight.

"Bill?" He whispered. "Do I go in?"

Of course, he never received a reply.

He rest his hand against the key pad, eyes closing as he gathered up his magic around himself.

"Let's do this. Come on, Dipper." He said to himself, smacking his cheeks lightly to set his resolve.

He ever so carefully nudged the machine open a little further and stepped through the opening. The cold air hit him immediately, goosebumps blossoming across his skin - but he barely noticed. He bent over, one hand braced against the wall as the taste of what was rotten eggs, stinking fish, and spoiled milk defiled his tongue. He held his stomach as he vomited against the wall, sickened. He shakily twisted his hand, gathering the magic more firmly around his mouth. He could still taste it, but it wasn't as bad as before. He wiped his mouth face screwed up as he continued downstairs to the elevator. It was still unlocked from the last time it had been used, so he just pushed the down arrow and waited for the lift to come back up. When it trundled back to where he was waiting for it, he stepped inside and the door closed behind him. The elevator jolted as it headed back underground. The taste got worse the further he descended, but his magic was doing a good enough job of blocking it out that he could ignore it if he focused long and hard enough.

The first thing he saw when the elevator doors opened was Mabel, and his two great uncles crowded around small table with their backs to him, arguing about something he couldn't discern.

The jarring of the lift made Mabel turn around, and she started, staring at him as the color drained from her face. Her hands twisted into her sweater.

"Dipper," she breathed out, eyes wide. The older pair of twins turned around at her voice. Stanford looked distrusting and defensive, pushing Mabel behind him with one arm, while Grunkle Stan just looked...sad.

He didn't need magic to feel the hurt aching from Mabel's every pore.

"...Mabel," he said slowly, his voice firm and cool, even though inwardly he could feel his heart being chipped methodically into a million tiny pieces.

"You performed the ritual on that ghost, didn't you?" Stanford said gruffly, drawing Dipper's gaze up to him. He could see just behind him some odd sort of machine, like they used on all of those forensics crime shows.

His eyes flickered down to his bandage wrapped hand, then back to Mabel. He could see the denial written across her face - the way she would just accept his answer if he just said  _no._

He couldn't say no.

"I did," he said, not breaking his gaze.

Mabel choked slightly, eyes filling with tears. She looked as if she'd been hit repeatedly across the face. She looked as if she'd just been told he'd died.

Maybe to her, he had.

"No..." Her voice was a whisper. "No, Dipper, you didn't...please tell me you didn't. You said you didn't know what happened. You told me..."

A sickening smile twisted his features, masking his pain as he disguised his shaking hands with blue fire. The three of them stepped backwards away from him as Mabel covered her mouth in horror.

"You made a deal with him. You made a deal with Cipher, didn't you?" Stanford questioned darkly, the mistrust in his expression deepening.

He was silent for a moment, then shrugged slightly, ignoring the lump in his throat. "Is it that obvious? And here I was thinking that I was being  _sneaky."_ He chuckled to himself, seeing Grunkle Stan straighten, as if the dark tone of his voice had shocked him.

"I knew there was something off about you lately. I could tell." Grunkle Stan said as he gripped Mabel's shoulder. She stared at Dipper like he was a stranger.

_Like I'm a monster._

_Is she right about that? Am I a monster? Am I just like Bill?_

He shoved those thoughts deep into the back of his mind. Now wasn't the time.

"Pine Tree, right?" Stanford continued, catching his attention again. "You're the pine tree on the wheel."

Dipper made a soft sound of agreement. His fire burned brighter as something heavy formed in his palm. "But let's discuss that another time, shall we?" He twirled a knife around in his hand, feeling their eyes fall on it. Still his hands burned blue. "I think,  _my dear great uncle,_ that we both know I have more important matters to deal with."

And then he launched forward towards them, flinging the knife at Stanford's chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing! Almost finished the story!


	19. Breakable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do enjoy. There are probably mistakes all over the place in here. I'm eager to get this story finished so I have done some pretty poor proof-reading. So...sorry for that o.O
> 
> This is the second last chapter. One more and an epilogue.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.

Panic erupted around them.

Mabel shrieked, falling backwards into the table and knocking the forensics equipment to the floor, smashing it to pieces. Grunkle Stan dove to the side, yanking Stanford with him, the pair of them falling to the floor as the knife sunk into the side of the table, missing the side of Mabel's head by mere inches. She stared at the knife, her eyes widening with horror at how close to her it was, before she looked at Dipper, who looked equally as horrified. His expression straightened out, and he twisted his wrist. The knife dug itself back out of the table, spinning backwards into his hand. Stanford picked himself up off of the floor, fury on his face.

"Don't make me hurt you, Dipper," he warned. Dipper gripped the knife tighter.

"I think you're mistaken. I'm the one who's hurting _you."_

He jumped forward, slashing out towards Stanford who jumped backwards quickly, ducking to the side. "Get in the portal room!" He barked at Stan and Mabel. Stan hoisted Mabel up, who was frozen stiff where she sat, gaze not straying from her brother.

Dipper's gaze flickered across to her for a brief second, his eyes betraying the sorrow he was trying to squelch deep inside himself. He let out a grunt as he was thrown backwards across the lab equipment spread across the tops of tables, covering his face as glass slashed up his arms and legs.

"It's not too late to turn back, Dipper," Stanford said as the boy placed his hand on the table, breathing painfully as he hoisted himself up and off of it. The glass embedded in his skin wriggled out of his wounds as he stumbled up.

"You don't understand," he said as the glass spun around, aiming at Stanford. His eyes watered, a pathetic smile crossing his face as his hands clenched into fists.

"I have to do this."

The glass fired at Stanford as the man dove towards the ground, shattering as they hit the wall behind him, falling like tiny raindrops around them.

"You don't know that for sure, Dipper! Unless you tell me what's going on, how am I meant to help you?!"

"You can't help me," he said. He touched the counter top of a table, steadying himself and gathering up all of his strength. In a flash of blue flame, an axe appeared in his hands, and he spun it into a more comfortable grip. "No one can help me."

He walked over to the man, hands shaking. He gripped the handle tighter. "You could make this easy on yourself. I won't hurt you if you just give me what I want."

"And what is it that you want, Dipper?"

"Don't play dumb with me. You know what I want!"

Stanford glowered at Dipper as the boy raised the axe above his head. "Go on then, boy. Kill me. You don't have the guts."

Dipper's breathing was harsh even to his own ears. "You think I don't know that already?" He said, masking the disgust in himself as disgust that he couldn't commit the act. It seemed to work, because his great uncle looked sickened. "So no, I'm not going to kill you."

Stanford stared at him, pulling himself away as Dipper took another step closer. "But...I can do this." He swung the axe down towards Stanford knowing that he didn't want to sever anything important, just enough that the man would be incapacitated for a while.

The head of the axe cut into the author's shoulder, and he gritted his teeth with pain, letting out a sharp yell of pain.

"STANFORD!" Grunkle Stan shouted.

"GREAT UNCLE FORD!" Mabel shrieked with horror.

The pair of them made to rush back out to help him, but Dipper raised his hand and they hit an invisible wall. Mabel fell to to the ground with a loud "OOF!"

Stanford fell onto his side as Dipper tore the axe back out of his shoulder, the head dripping with his blood. His eyes were shut tight, and he was swearing profusely, rolling around on the floor.

Dipper looked at Mabel and Stanley. They looked betrayed, and upset, and scared. He looked directly at Mabel.

"Dipper," she sniffed. "Tell me this is just one of your really bad jokes." Her voice was only a note behind begging, pressing her palms to the invisible wall he'd erected between them. "Please."

He placed the axe over his shoulder, turning away from her as he hunched his shoulders. "For the record - if it still means anything to you...I'm sorry."

"Please." This time her voice was begging. "You're my twin. You can't just...you can't..."

"I already did."

And then he walked out of the laboratory - walked away from Mabel, who shouted out after him, screaming with a voice that never once relented.

* * *

Wasting time wasn't an option. He didn't even run up the stairs, his feet not touching the wooden steps once. The phials were the most important thing on his mind right now - without them, this whole...whole thing was useless. He didn't have time to feel disgusted in himself. He didn't have time to hate himself.

He just didn't have time.

Dipper dropped the axe at his side, digging his fingers into the wooden plank and yanked it up. He dropped his notebook next to him, then reached back into the secret compartment. The phials clinked against each other as he grabbed two bottles at a time, placing them on the floor beside him as he slid his fingers against the timber next to him. He felt it turn into a soft material beneath his fingertips. He gathered the material up in his hand and yanked it from where it conjoined with more wood, ripping it away. Below, he could see the living room. He dropped the phials in - Mabel's and Grunkle Stan's, Gideon's and Robbie's, Wendy's and Soos', the one holding Pacifica's band-Aid, and the one holding McGucket's tooth - then wrapped them up in the bundle with the notebook. He tied the fabric to the end of the axe handle. He picked the axe back up, hoisting it carefully over his shoulder as pushed the window open and jumped to the ground below.

His feet hit the grassy covered earth, body jarring with ground shock. Dipper straightened up, grimacing at the pain that shook his legs, but he ignored it in favor of running as fast as he could away from the Shack. He was exhausted now that the adrenaline had worn off, and he was hurting from the various cuts and bruises he'd received down in the laboratory, so he decided it was for the best if he save his energy – especially since he wasn't sure what the magic he performed next was going to do to him.

The woods were oddly silent tonight. He could feel the listlessness in the air, could sense the eyes watching him. It was like the creatures hiding within the shade of the trees knew what was coming.

Was it reverence they watched him with?

No. No, that wasn't it. It was fear.

Dipper swallowed the rising sensation within his gut, scrunched his toes to stop the bounce in his step. It was all well and good to act the part, but...

_But…_

"Come on, Dipper, get a grip," he muttered to himself. "You aren't _Bill._ No matter what he says. _You aren't Bill."_

The hoot of an owl above his head made him jump, and when he looked up to see it, the eyes glowed back down at him. He turned his head away sharply, gripping the handle of the axe tighter.

The further into the woods he got, the colder he felt. It had nothing to do with being hidden in the shade of the trees he knew, but an in depth pressure that he felt within himself. He needed to just take deep breathes, but the nearer he drew to the stump, the harder it became.

Dipper was scared – of what he was doing, of who he was becoming, of what might happen within the next thirty minutes, if he did the ritual right. Bill hadn't given him an incantation to say.

Too soon, his feet hit the edge of the large stump.

For what felt like a very long time, Dipper just stood there, staring at it, but eventually he roused himself, straightening up. He placed the bundle down on the ground, untying the fabric from around the axe handle and laying it out flat. He set each jar away from the others, looking at each symbol. Gnawing at his lip as he stepped up onto the tree root, he began to survey the width and diameter of it.

"Ten symbols…easy enough to divide," he murmured as a fresh knife appeared in his hand in a bout of blue flame. He was getting pretty good at summoning them up now – he wasn't sure if that should have concerned him or not.

Dipper bent down, wincing as a splinter of wood dug into one of the glass cuts crisscrossing his legs, but ignored it in favor of marking out a circle about a quarter of the way towards the center of the stump. He was careful to make sure it was perfect, and that the two ends matched up, before digging the knife deeper into the guideline to make it more defined.

Next, he separated out ten sections on the wheel, utilizing the sharpness of his eyes to make them perfectly equal with one another. He picked up his notebook, flipping through it until he found the page he'd drawn Bill's wheel onto, placing it next to him as he began to whittle the shape of glasses into the top part of the wheel, trying to get it as close as possible to the one he'd sketched in after Bill had shown him the design again. He'd really only had a brief look at Journal 2, after all. He peered at the two designs, nodding to himself when he decided they were more or less identical.

He moved onto the next image – a question mark. Scraping in the actual question mark was fine – it was getting the little drips coming off of it to match up to what he'd drawn in his notebook that was the problem, but after a good few minutes of scraping tiny bits of wood out at a time to get adequate rounded edges. He set the knife down, stretching his hand to get rid of the cramp.

He moved onto the ice bag next, which was an easier design. It didn't have any really rounded edges, so just scraping the knife up and down and across was all that he needed to complete it.

Next, he carefully sculpted out the claw symbol that represented his Grunkle, tongue poking out in concentration. It was starting to get easier to scratch the symbols into the wood, now that he was used to the feel of it under the knife, but he was determined to make sure all the lines were perfectly connected, lest something bad happened. It wasn't that he thought it would, but, well, best to avoid the problem before it could even get started.

Dipper sat back on his knees, staring at the image of a pine tree scrawled into his notebook. The one that represented him. He touched the symbol in his book, closing his eyes.

"Come on. It isn't hard. Just do it."

He bent down, scraping his symbol into the tree stump. As he drew it in, he felt electric shocks zap up his body – not really a pain, but…more of a tickle. Did the others all feel that, too? Or was it just him?

Dipper knew it was the latter without even really having to think about it.

The thought made him work faster. He finished his symbol off in no time, bending down the scratch in the next one – Gideon's.

He kinda hoped that this time it didn't tickle.

_Little bastard._

The hand was hard to draw – but the llama was even harder. He cursed Pacifica for having to be so goddamn difficult, but after some careful whittling and a long stream of curse words, he got it done.

"Now, onto-" His whispered voice cut off abruptly as he stared at the next symbol on the chart.

He swallowed, staring at the pictogram of a shooting star. He shook himself, breathing out slowly.

"Onto Mabel." He bent down over the second last empty space, hand shaking ever so slightly as he drew in the star, then the rainbow shooting off of it.

It was fitting, that her imagery was a shooting star, he thought. She was so _bright_. Smart in a way he never could be. He swallowed, gripping his knees so tight his knuckles were going white as he stared at the carved symbol. Finally, he finished off the wheel with Robbie's symbol, letting some of his bubbling anger out on the slash that he made across the heart. It reminded him of himself at the moment, except he didn't have any stitches to put himself back together.

"Stop it, stop it, _stop it._ You let this happen. You need to pay for it," he whispered firmly to himself as he set to work on drawing the large image of Bill in the center of the ten images. The sketch of Bill was easy enough to draw, though he was careful with the curves of his arms, legs, and eyes – because Bill would probably pull out his teeth or something if his likeness wasn't exact. When he finished, he set the knife aside, the single eye that stared back at him unnerving him to no end.

He pulled the phials up onto the stump with him, pulling out the stoppers as he dropped each drop of blood onto the correlating symbol. There was an odd hissing sound as each drop fell upon the correct pictograph, smoke rising from the blood like it was steaming. He was relieved when McGucket's and Pacifica's symbols both hissed, steam rising from the crusted blood upon each of the pieces he'd collected from them.

Dipper dragged the axe up onto the glasses, resting the head against the symbol. Blood steamed up from it as he turned to look at the final symbol – his pine tree.

He clenched his hand into a fist to stop it from shaking, but it didn't help. Whatever was going to happen...he'd come this far. He couldn't back out now.

He unraveled the bandage on his hand, picking the knife back up. The skin on his palm was still tender from the last ritual he'd performed. His hand jittered over top of the pine tree.

"One…two…three!" He slashed the knife straight back over the tender skin, swearing as blood welled up from the cut, splattering against the pine tree symbol.

As soon as the first drop hit the symbol, the earth began to rumble. He yelled, scrambling off of the stump as it began to split apart, exploding with a light so bright he was temporarily blinded.

His ears squealed with pain, a loud ringing piercing his ear drums. He blinked rapidly as the light faded, though the ringing stayed.

"Bill," he breathed.

The triangle was floating just above the stump, saying something that Dipper couldn't hear.

But the world wasn't black and white.

And there was no way in _hell_ this was a dream.

"…great thing you've done kid!" Bill was saying with a laugh as Dipper's hearing slowly came back, his mouth hanging wide open. "Really, I couldn't have done it without you – well, I mean, I _could_ have, but _yeesh!_ You're definitely the most unprecedented catalyst I could have come up with!"

"I…I…are you…?"

"Here? Physically? Sure am! No more stuck in the mindscape, kid!" He laughed. "Which means I don't need _you_ anymore!"

His mouth snapped shut. "Wait…what? What do you mean, you don't need me anymore?"

"Exactly what I said! You've run out of usefulness, Pine Tree! But hey! Hats off to you, you did well!" Bill tipped his top hat, and Dipper felt a lurching sensation as the world tilted. He fell backwards with a yell, scrambling at tree branches, trying to get a grip on one as he was knocked from tree trunk to tree trunk like he was in a pinball machine. He managed to grasp onto a branch with his still bleeding palm, pain ripping through his shredded up hand.

The world righted itself as Bill placed his hat back on his head, but he still hung on for dear life, catching onto the branch with his dangling hand.

"You...can't...do that. We had a deal, Bill!" He shouted out to the glowing demon desperately.

"Come on, kid, do you _really_ think there's a code of conduct for someone like me?" He laughed nastily as he circled Dipper like a shark before dropping down to hover just above Dipper.

Dipper couldn't see the smile Bill was wearing, but he could hear it in his voice when he spoke. "But hey, I'm feeling generous tonight, and since you helped me out so much, I'll give you a little something." A finger jabbed against his forehead, and suddenly he felt lightheaded, his grip on the branch slipping.

"It's too bad your tiny human brain won't be able to handle it all!" Bill chuckled. "But hey – you know what they say about you mortals; death is inevitable."

He gave Dipper's lax grip a tap with his cane. The teenager's eyes drifted shut, losing grip all together as he crashed to the ground below.

* * *

"Stanford – you shouldn't be moving!" Grunkle Stan was saying as his twin struggled up painfully, clutching his shoulder as he pushed past Mabel and into the portal room.

He'd fallen back onto his injured shoulder when the world had suddenly tilted around, starting the bleeding again when they'd only just managed to staunch it.

"Great Uncle Ford!" Mabel said, chasing after him as he headed over to a bunch of controls to the left of the room. Her heard pounded, and when she lifted her hand to touch her forehead, it came away bloody.

"I have to do something! It's urgent. They could come back at any moment and-"

"You mean Bill and Dipper," she said quietly.

Stanford turned to look at her, saying nothing as Mabel eyed him with a pained expression.

"Dipper would never do something like this. Not ever!" She said fiercely.

"The brother you know is _dead,_ Mabel. He has been for a long time, by the looks of things. The sooner you accept that…" he breathed in a sigh, rolling his good shoulder. "The sooner you accept that, the better."

_No way. He might be acting like a big dumb, evil jerk face, but he's still my brother._

"What are you doing, Ford?" Grunkle Stan asked. "This wasn't in your journals."

Stanford shook his head quickly. "Too risky to put it in there. Kept it in my head." He turned a key and the portal boomed into life, a strange, deathly green color twisting within it.

"But…what is it?" Stan asked gruffly.

Stanford looked at the pair of them, a slow grin appearing on his face. Mabel thought it made him look like the half mad scientist he was. "If my assumptions are correct – and I'm about ninety-seven percent sure they are – then Cipher is about to pay us a visit." He pushed a lever upwards until it went as high as it could go. The portal made a booming sound, blowing gas out of it and into their faces as the green turned a murky black. Mabel blocked the wind from her face, flattening her hair down when the gas stopped blowing out at them.

"When he gets here, I'm going to suck him into the portal, got that!?" Stanford yelled over top of the sounds of the portal working. "You both need to stay _as far away from it as possible_ , or you might get sucked into it with him! Do you understand?" He looked directly at Mabel, who nodded. "That means if Dipper show's up, you're to stay away from him, too. He's not to be trusted!" When Mabel didn't nod, Stan bent down in front of her. "Mabel, I know it hurts, but you gotta remember – he chose to do this."

"He's still my brother!"

"I know what it's like, Mabel, but you have to trust us! We – or, Ford – knows what he's doing. We aren't asking you to do anything but stay away from him. That's all."

Mabel looked at her shoes. "I don't like it. But I understand." She said to him, hugging herself. Grunkle Stan stood up, standing next to his brother and pulling on the knobs that he asked him to change.

They didn't understand. She wished she could go hide in Sweater Town – but right now, that wasn't an option.

The world suddenly rocked, and she screamed, falling to the ground as the ground split open from below. Her grunkle and great uncle grabbed onto the table as they collapsed.

"Cipher!" Stanford shouted furiously as the triangle gazed around lazily.

"Sixer! Long time no see! How ya been?" Bill asked cheerfully.

"What'd you do to my brother, you evil triangle!" Mabel shouted. The demon looked down at her, and his eye sparked with amusement.

"Oh Shooting Star, you really ought to stop having so much faith in people! He walked this path all on his own!"

"Where is he? What did you do with him, you…you _buttface_?!"

 _"Mabel come here it isn't safe!"_ Stanford said sharply

"Well, when I left him in the forest, he had a pretty nasty fall…I don't think he'll be getting up anytime soon, kid," Bill laughed.

And that was when her whole world fell out from under her, and she finally allowed herself to collapse – _really_ collapse.

"Dipper's…he's…" Her voice was a whisper. She could barely here herself she was that quiet. "He's…NO! You're lying! My brother wouldn't leave without saying goodbye!"

Bill looked vaguely irritated.

"Kid, it's _too late._ Let it go, _jees!_ One little mortal isn't _that_ important."

Mabel felt an arm wrap around her waist, pulling her safely into her Grunkle's arms.

"He isn't dead, Grunkle Stan. He isn't. He can't be! I would have felt something – I _WOULD_ have!"

Grunkle Stan never replied to her pleas for comfort, even as she grabbed at his tie, half choking him. All of his attention was on Stanford and Bill.

Stanford seethed. "I'm not letting you use the portal for your filthy needs!"

"But you so kindly set it up for me! Change a few settings on that little control panel and we're good to go!"

"You've harmed my family _enough_ Cipher! No more! I'm ending this now!" Stanford reached up, yanking down a lever. The portal began to spin faster and faster, dragging different objects inside of it. Mabel screamed, clutching onto her Grunkle for dear life as she felt her shoes pull off of her feet, getting sucked into the portal a moment later. It was like an endless black hole, and she was so scared…so _terrified._ Bill didn't look affected by the sudden vortex sucking up everything in its path, and she thought she saw horror flash across her great uncles face briefly.

Did something go wrong?

Stanford was fighting to get a grip on the controls again, teeth grit against the pain in his shoulder.

"ENOUGH!" Bill shouted. They were blasted away from Stanford, who clambered onto a handle with panic written on his face as he almost slipped, the portal threatening to swallow him up again. Grunkle Stan refused to let go of Mabel, managing to get a grip on a metal pipe attached to the floor, holding her against him.

Bill pulled a handle downward and the portal's colors changed again – this time to a gray color. "Been a long time since we've worked together, eh, Sixer?"

"Like hell! That was in the past! You tricked me!" He snapped, grimacing against the pull of the portal. Mabel could tell by the expression on his face that this hadn't worked out at all how her great uncle had hoped.

"Big _deal_ , I trick _everyone,"_ Bill said dismissively.

Mabel froze as the scuffing of feet came up behind her.

"Well, Cipher. That certainly _does_ make two of us." Two feet stopped next to her and Stan.

 _No. No. It couldn't be…_ Mabel's breathing stilled as she lifted her head, her heart beating faster.

 _"How are you alive?!"_ Bill demanded. His body slowly turned red, growing in size as his voice got deeper. He was _furious._

Dipper smiled mirthlessly.

"Maybe next time, you shouldn't let your power go to your head, Cipher." His voice dropped, taking on a mocking tone. "I'd hate to see you get usurped by a _lowly little human._ Wouldn't that just be absolutely _terrible?"_

"What are you trying to say, you filthy-"

"-meatsack? _Please._ I thought you were more _creative_ than that, Bill." The mirth in his face vanished, replaced by something more sinister as Bill's eye turned black with fury. Mabel pushed her hair out of her face, eyes wide as she stared at her Not-Brother brother. There was something off about him – a different _off_ to the off he'd been before. It wasn't that he didn't seem to have any cuts or bruises on him when he'd left not more than an hour ago covered in them. It wasn't even the cruelty on his face.

It was something in his eyes – the steadiness, the strange sort of understanding, the _age_ within them. One thing she knew for sure; something had happened that Bill hadn't expected, and he was _mad._

"Go on then," Dipper continued softly. Not once did he raise his voice, but still, it carried over the shrieking and whirring of the portal. Like Bill, he didn't seem bothered by the way the portal tried to suck in everything in its path, standing still against the forceful wind. "Let's see what you're _really_ made of."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it despite various spelling mistakes and typos and the like.
> 
> Thanks for reading and reviewing!
> 
> I have a tumblr; send me an ask at filthymallards.tumblr.com!


	20. Unbreakable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say in regards to this chapter...hopefully you'll enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.

Her brother seemed unmovable against the knocking wind, his expression set as Bill's hands clenched into fists encased with blue.

"You think you're stronger than me, Pine Tree?" Bill asked. He spoke calmly, but his black eye and the glowing red of his body said differently. "Come on, kid! Don't get too full of yourself!"

Mabel pushed her hair out of her face again, spitting out a strand of hair. Her brother looked down at her briefly, catching her eyes only for a moment, before looking away.

It was like…like he was weighed down by something. What that was, she didn't know…

But it must have been something _unbearable._

"Maybe I didn't have the strength before, Cipher. But things change," Dipper replied softly, walking away from her and Grunkle Stan. Her Grunkle grunted slightly, gripping the pipe tight as the portal whirred louder, pulling a vent off of its hinges and sucking it into the warped gray. "For an all knowing being, you really don't seem to know very much."

Bill let out an aggressive hiss, a sharp beam of red light shooting from his eye and towards Dipper. Mabel let out a sharp gasp, ready to throw herself into the fray to help him, but he merely sidestepped it. The beam seared a hole straight through the wall, creating a perfect circle through into the other side of the lab. Dipper slammed his foot against the concrete floor, earth burst up beneath Bill from under the floor, shooting up like a rocket. The triangle looked peeved, using his cane as a bat to hit the earth out towards her brother. She squeezed her eyes shut as little bits of dirt splattered around her, opening them again just in time to see Dipper deflect the larger, missile-like shots with a wave of his hand, the clumps of hardened ground hitting the concrete beside him so hard that they caused a shock wave to rock through the portal room.

Bill grunted as fire blasted him backwards threw the air. Mabel struggled to see her brother as he turned and ran out into the laboratory room, blasting a hole through where the door stood. She could just see him fiddling with one of the switchboards in the room, touching different handles and moving them around, flicking some up, others left, and changing the degree of others. He walked back out into the portal room, yanking on a handle as Stanford struggled to get up, shouting something at Dipper that Mabel couldn't hear over the rising noise. Her brother was ignoring him like he wasn't even there.

"Dipper!" She shouted as her brother was thrown to the floor, burning his arm as it scathed and tore up against the concrete flooring. He lifted his head, teeth clenched as Bill hovered in front of him. Mabel struggled against her Grunkle as he held her tighter.

"Mabel, wait! Stop it!" He grunted at her. "You can't do anything! You'll get hurt if you try!"

"Tsk tsk, kid, that was a really _dumb_ move," Bill said loudly, his voice deep with anger. Dipper didn't reply. From where she was sitting, Mabel could see his hand twitching ever so slightly, his torn up skin stitching itself back together before her eyes. It was kinda gross, seeing the way the skin pulled together and sort of…fused, but wicked cool, too.

"Holy moly!" She breathed as Dipper picked himself back up off of the floor, the skin on his arm perfectly smooth, as if the injury had never happened.

"I don't know what you think you're doing, kid, but you're going to be paying for it if you don't stop it right now!" Bill swore.

Dipper's feet suddenly left the ground, and all Mabel could do was stare at her brother, slack jawed as he rose up to the same level as Bill, seemingly sizing each other up. They spun around each other, like an unceremonious dance – just waiting for the other to attack first.

_Mabel._

She blinked rapidly, clutching at her head as pain pounded through it like a hammer. Why did she have to get a headache _now?_

_Mabel!_

She rubbed her eyes, wincing as she lifted her head back up. Her brother was looking past Bill at her. His eyebrow gave the slightest twitch – just enough for her to realize he was trying to get her attention.

 _"…Dipper?"_ Her voice was a shocked whisper. Grunkle Stan gave her an odd look, his expression asking her if she was losing it.

_Mabel, I need you to do something for me. There's one last lever I need to change – it has a green handle and is on setting 3. I need you to switch it to setting 5. Can you do this for me?_

"Well…sure, but…why not Great Uncle Ford?" She murmured, confusion on her expression.

 _I can't get into his mind – too much blockage. Can you do this for me?_ He repeated, his voice in her head firmer than before.

She nodded her head, determination setting in her gaze. She turned her head to look at her grunkle.

"Sorry, Grunkle Stan!"

"Mabel, what are you _\- OOF!"_ Her grunkle grunted painfully as she kicked him in the stomach, releasing her as he made to clutch at his gut.

As soon as she stood up, she was being sucked up towards the portal. The void seemed to spin wilder and faster the closer she got to it, ready to swallow her whole. She let out a shriek, trying to grapple anything near her to hold on to.

"MABEL!" Her grunkle and great uncle shouted.

"DIPPER!" She shouted, voice panicked as she searched around for her brother wildly. He and Bill were firing spell after spell at each other, flashes of blues and greens and whites, which were deflected or dodged almost as soon as they were thrown. They were moving so fast all she could see were blurs. Dipper froze where he stood - or…hovered? She wasn't sure, his gaze falling on her for the briefest second. He raked his fingers jerkily through the air, she fell sideways into the machine just as a blue ball of flame slammed into his chest, smashing him backwards into a wall across from the portal.

 _Hurry up, Shooting Star, I can't keep this up forever!_ His voice was terse and pained, even in her head.

Mabel scrambled to grip onto the machine before she was pulled up by the portal again, as Stanford tried to grab onto her to pull her down to him. She frantically searching for the lever Dipper had mentioned. Her eyes fell onto the right one, and she reached forward to grip it as there was a loud boom from the portal. A flash of white light from within the portal temporarily blinded her, and she was almost torn off of the machine by the sharp suction that followed, barely holding on by one hand.

"HEY BILL!" She shouted. The demon spun around to look at her from where he'd been advancing on her brother, hands crackling with blue flame. "NEXT TIME, DON'T PICK ON THE PINES!" Mabel pressed her hand against the table of switches, shoving the lever upwards with all of her might.

The portal thundered, the colors within it growing into an epileptic string of rainbows. Mabel felt the tug on her body start to die down as Bill started to struggle against the wind, reaching out towards her. He threw a ball of fire towards her, but it only got a few inches away from him before getting sucked up by the portal. The demon looked outraged.

"You!" Bill shrieked at her, his black eye pulsing angrily as he struggled harder towards her. Behind him, Mabel could see her brother gripping a pole that was welded hard against the wall, his eyes squeezed shut tight as he was yanked around by the suction of the whirring mass of color.

Stanford grimaced as he stood, fixing his glasses. He helped Mabel down off of the portal as Grunkle Stan came forward to stand by them, watching Bill fighting against the portal. The spells he tried to hurl towards them dissipated into nothing as soon as he cast them.

Mabel thought the malevolent demon looked a little bit…scared.

"Pine Tree, stop this at once! What do you think you're doing?!" He demanded.

Dipper opened his eyes to watch the demon. Even from where she stood, Mabel could see the way the portal was reflected within them – could see the cold finality within them.

"Ending this."

The portal spun wilder and wilder, spinning so fast Mabel couldn't even see the colors anymore. Bill shrieked, grabbing for his top hat as it got sucked up by the portal.

"You…you think you've won, but I'll be back, Pines!" The demon shouted as his triangular body was sucked up by the portal, feet kicking out desperately behind him. "You wait and see! You. Wait. And. See!"

The demon's struggling feet vanished within the machine, until there was nothing left but the rooms to destruction to say that he had ever even been there at all.

The world, though the portal still churned and whirred with every noise imaginable, felt silent. Mabel stared upwards, gaping.

Was that…it?

He was really…really _gone?_

"You know, I'd be very grateful if you could _turn off the portal."_ Dipper called down to them. He was barely holding on by his fingertips, a grimace set on his face. Grunkle Stan, Mabel, and Stanford rushed forward to the emergency shut down keys, turning them, and Mabel was quick to race over and bang her hand down on the red button. The portal started to slow down, the spinning becoming more sluggish by the second as the colorful kaleidoscope became darker and darker.

The machine buzzed once, the sound ringing around the room before turning off. A black expanse was all that remained.

Dipper slid down the pole, landing lightly on the ground and brushing dirt off of himself.

Mabel rushed forward, running across the room and jumping over the gap in the ground towards her brother. Her arms flung around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Oh my god Dipper I thought you were gone forever or like were totally evil or something but you're not and I'm so happy about it don't you ever do something like that again you big dumb dumb or I'll have to introduce you to my friends Knuckle and Sandwich and I really don't want to have to bring them out," she burbled. Dipper gave her back an awkward pat, before pulling her off of him by her shoulders.

"…Dipper?" She asked as he sidestepped her and walked over to Stanley and Stanford. Mabel watched him, watched the way the dirt made a path for him over the gap, watched the way he barely seemed to notice – or care. Shaking herself, she followed him across as he came to stop in front of the two men.

He grabbed Stanford's arm, pulling him down. One hand rest upon his injured shoulder. Slowly, the tissue began to pull back together, repairing as good as new. Stanford was studying Dipper, his brows drawn down in confusion as he slowly straightened back up, rolling his shoulder.

"Bill allowed his pride to get in the way of his plans." Dipper's voice was soft, contemplative. He looked…sad.

Why did he look so sad?

"I don't understand," Stanford said.

Dipper pressed a hand to Mabel's forehead, healing her of her cuts and injuries. She stared at him, tears glimmering in her eyes. "Dipper…what happened?"

Grunkle Stan nodded his head, expression grim as Dipper healed the old man's injuries. The pair of older twins looked at each other as her brother sighed, lacing his fingers together behind his head, thinking.

"A lot. A lot happened. But I assume you're referring to how I went from cutting you-" he nodded towards Stanford, "-up with an axe, to…here?"

All three of them nodded.

He tugged at a strand of his hair, watching the portal. "It's like I said. Bill let his pride get in the way of his plans - a plan I'm sure you know well, Sixer. He wanted to conjoin the nightmare realm with our own," Stanford opened his mouth, but Dipper held up a hand to silence him. "You see, in the physical realm, he is severely weakened, but if the two were to mould into one, he would become all powerful. All knowing – and no, Great Uncle Ford, he is not as omnipotent as he would like to lead people to believe. Not quite. But he wanted to be. You know what they say – power corrupts, absolutely. He never would have had enough."

"How do you know all of this?" Grunkle Stan asked.

Dipper looked at him, a small smile quirking up the corner of his mouth. He didn't look happy.

"Because I'm just like him, Stan. Surely you've realized that by now. No, not a demon – don't make that face - but…close enough to omnipotence now that…maybe I'm not entirely human anymore? That…that I _don't_ know," he looked down at his hands, blue flames rising before dissipating into thin air. "Bill planned on my death. He has this absurd belief that he is above humankind. He believes we are too weak a species."

He made a yanking gesture at his head, and then opened his palm out towards them. An image projected itself in the air, and Mabel leaned forward to get a better look.

She sucked in a horrified breath when the projection showed her brother lying still on his side, slashes of blood welled up all over his body, and his leg twisted at a strange angle. His eyes were shut, body strangely still. Horribly still.

"He assumed that I would die – if not from my injuries, from the sudden unlocking of all the knowledge buried within my brain. He didn't take into consideration the strange strength that humans possess in the oddest of circumstances." The projection of her brother shifted, his injuries slowly healing as he struggled up onto his hands and knees, coughing up blood. Dipper waved his hand over the image and it disappeared. "I was able to source the correct information within my brain, heal my body, and return here before Bill was able to cause too much damage."

"And that's why you changed your mind? Because you suddenly knew what he was planning?"

"He was planning on killing you all," Dipper replied to Stanford's question, voice firm. "Once I was out of the picture, any prior deals we had would become null and void – not that they would have mattered anyway, my deal with him was so full of loopholes it's a wonder that he never tried to kill any of your earlier." He straightened his back, stepping away from them a little. "Either way, I couldn't let that happen. I refused to let that happen."

"Wait wait wait," Mabel said, shaking her head. "Why did you even make a deal with him in the first place, bro bro?"

Her brother stared at her with a strange expression on his face. It was weird, not being able to understand why he was frowning. His eyes were too old for his face. They were too…they just held too much of…of _everything_ but what they _should_ have. She took in the way he processed what she had said, seemed to think about it, and then looked away from her.

"I wanted to do right by you guys. If I couldn't have the heart, or the mind, or the brawn, I would have the power," he said, voice dropping. "I just wanted the power to keep you safe."

"Oh, _Dipper,_ you big dumb-dumb!" She leaned forward and punched him hard in the arm, her eyes welling with tears.

He watched her out of the corner of his eyes. "Don't cry."

"Sorry, I just…you're so stupid. Brave and stupid."

Dipper looked back towards the portal again. "Anyway…I just want you all to know that I'm sorry for everything that happened. You have to know, I never intended for things to turn out this way."

"We believe you, Dipper, but how did you know how to change the machine? I don't think even Bill knew about that, judging by the way he reacted," Grunkle Stan said.

Her brother looked down at his hand, touching at the air in front of him, as if something in front of him amused him to no end.  
"I saw the magic, and I utilized it. I saw the connections, and I forced the result I desired. It's as simple as that. Even in this room, there is magic. It is an impure magic, but it is still magic. Sickening to the senses, but I was able to see it and realize how I could change the portal to fit my needs. All I did was change a few things, and the portal was built to suck up magic." His eyes returned to Mabel. "Thank you. If you hadn't trusted me, none of this would have been possible."

Mabel tugged her hair, curling a strand around her finger. She didn't know what to say. What _could_ she say to her twin – the person she'd grown up with her whole life? The person who was so far removed from her twin that they were almost two separate entities? She pulled her finger out of her hair, faking a yawn.

"Can we keep talking about this tomorrow? I'm tired, and I want to go to sleep. I'm sure Dip-Dop feels the same. Right, Dipper?" When he didn't immediately agree, she looked at him, her eyes wide. "…Dipper?"

Her brother's shoulders were tense, and he still wouldn't look at her, eyes remaining on the portal.

"I'm sorry, Mabel," he said softly.

_What?_

It took her a moment to realize what he was saying. Her heart constricted in her chest, a hand squeezing it so tight that she thought she might die of a heart attack on the spot.

"No. _No!"_ She stood up quickly, grabbing him by his shirt and yanking him towards her. Finally he turned his face towards her. "You can't, Dipper! You can't! We only just got you back!"

He held her wrists, pulling her hands off of his shirt.

"Mabel-"

"It's not fair, this wasn't what was supposed to happen!"

"Mabel-"

"You're supposed to be some crazy scientist or something, and I'm supposed to be a famous fashion designer, model, actress, and singer!"

"Mabel-"

"And we were going to live in the Mystery Shack whenever I wasn't touring and stuff, and we were gonna run the Shack when these two old codgers couldn't anymore-"

_"Mabel!"_

Her voice cut off, and she blinked away the tears blurring in her eyes. Dipper looked like he was in physical pain, but his eyes were clear and calm.

"If I don't do this, he'll come back," he said slowly. His voice was thick, the only thing telling her that he wasn't taking this as well as he wanted her to believe he was. "If he does come back, bad things will happen. Very bad things." He breathed in deeply, then let out a slow breath of air. "Someone has to go through there and stop something like this from happening ever again."

"Dipper, you don't have to do this-" Grunkle Stan started, but Dipper cut him off with a laugh. Mabel felt a shock go up her spine. The sound was so devoid of…of _life,_ yet so full of agony.

He'd been through so much, and she hadn't been there to protect him.

 _Oh,_ Dipper, _I'm a terrible big sister. I'm sorry._

"You don't _understand_ ," he said, looking at Grunkle Stan. Mabel finally spotted a slight shine glimmering within his eyes, and when he spoke again, his voice was only a whisper. "I'm the only one who _can."_

"I – I don't know, Dipper, what the heck am I gonna tell your parents? They'll sue me for…for _murder,_ or something. I can't go back to prison."

His smile was bitter. "Tell them I gave the world one gigantic fuck of a middle finger, and went out with a bang. That's sure to get a few laughs."

"We're _serious,_ Dipper," Stanford said. Mabel was looking between the two grownups with horror. They were actually going to…to _let_ this _happen?!_ "What do we say to them?"

"Just tell them the truth. That's the easiest route to take in regards to dealing with them. They probably won't talk to either of you ever again, but at least, this way, Mabel will still be able to come back to the Shack after she turns eighteen."

 _"Dipper._ Stop _talking_ like this, you aren't going anywhere! Not without your big sister," Mabel argued.

Her brother looked unimpressed by her argument. "Mabel," he said, resting his hand on her shoulder. "My life is nothing compared to yours. Nothing. I'm just a shadow in comparison to you and the things you will accomplish. You…you will be the _brightest_ star in the sky. You'll shine in a way others never will. You'll become everything you've ever wanted to be." He dropped his hand. "Please. For me. Don't waste your life."

"But…but you're my twin," she choked up. "You're…you're my best friend."

"And I always will be." He walked away from her and out of the portal room. Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford shared a look with each other. The portal shuddered as it began to restart, and the two men stood up, backing away from it as Dipper returned a few moments later, carrying the three journals in his hands.

Stanford tensed up, starting towards her brother with anger on his face. "Hey! What are you doing with me journals-" He cut off with a noise of pain when the books burst into flames in Dipper's hands. Dipper dropped the burning books to the floor, watching them silently.

"You…you! That was my life research! How…how could you just-"

"These books have caused too much damage, Stanford Pines. I won't allow them to cause anymore."

Stanford dropped to his knees as he watched his books burn, his mouth agape and horrified.

Mabel could feel Dipper's eyes fall on her, and she lifted her gaze from her great uncle to look back at him. He didn't say anything to her, just moved backwards towards the table full of levers and buttons. He pressed his hand against a button, flicking the switch up beside it. "Sometimes we have to make great sacrifices in order to protect those that we love, Mabel. You need to accept that."

"Dipper, stop it! This isn't…this isn't how it was supposed to be!" Mabel argued, making to walk over to him. She grunted when she hit an invisible wall in front of him, placing her hands against it and banging. "Dipper!"

"The world works in mysterious ways, sister. All we can do is go along for the ride."

Mabel watched, her face full of horror as the rainbow colors within the portal spun faster. Her brother grimaced as he was yanked backwards towards it.

"Dipper!" She rest her palm against the wall, desperation stopping her from breathing.

"Mabel." Dipper rest his hand against the other side of the wall. His voice was ever so quiet, and he was smiling that sad smile again. "Do what you do best. _Live on._ Don't let this stop you from achieving the greatness you deserve." He his hand slipped down the wall until it dangled limply at his side. "Tell Mom and Dad that I'm sorry."

"Dipper…" She tried again as the portal dragged him away from her. He grimaced against the wind.

"Mabel. Don't forget me, okay?" She knew she wasn't imagining the tear that slipped down his cheek.

He didn't want to leave any more than she wanted him too.

"How could I _ever,_ you big dumb dumb," she whispered, her own tears splattering the concrete under her feet.

Dipper managed a choked laugh as he was lifted up by the portal. He didn't look to be fighting it at all. Mabel stared at him as his back disappeared within the swirling rainbow.

"That's what I like to hear, you knucklehead!" He shouted back to her as he was swallowed up by the gaping wall of color.

And then he was gone.

The wall she was leaning on vanished, and she fell to her knees with an anguished cry.

"Dipper! DIPPER! NO! _NO!"_ She jumped up, racing forward towards the portal, only to be picked up by Grunkle Stan. She fought against him, lashing out as violently as she could, beating his arms with her hands, kicking him in the chest. "NO! NO! LET ME GO, GRUNKLE STAN! LET. ME. GO! DIPPER! _DIPPER!"_

"Mabel, he's gone. He's _gone!"_

_"He isn't gone! He's going to come back! This is a filthy trick! DIPPER THIS ISN'T FUNNY! THIS ISN'T KER-PRANK'D!"_

"Mabel!"

"He's my _brother! He's my bro-o-ther and he's gone!"_

"Mabel, I know. I _know_ – probably better than anyone else," Grunkle Stan said gruffly. Mabel slowly kicked her legs harder, only half hearing what he was saying as her sobs grew more distressed. "But this behavior won't bring him back. All we need to do, is restart the portal, and from there we can-" Stan broke off when the portal made an odd crackling sound. Right before her eyes, blue fire began to curl around various parts of the structure, pulling at the metal surrounding it and dragging the bits into the portal.

Stanford let out a yell, pulling his hands out of the dust that remained of his book. "My portal! My work! No!"

The whole thing was collapsing in one itself – and Mabel just knew that it was Dipper who was doing it - could tell by the blue fire curling around it.

_He doesn't want us to try bring him back._

She swallowed, leaning against her Grunkle as her tears trickled freely down her cheeks.

"Grunkle Stan?" She asked hollowly.

"Yeah, kiddo?"

Her eyes strayed back to the place the portal had been only a mere few seconds ago, now only an empty wall remained. She allowed her eyes to flutter shut, turning her head into his chest.

"I'm tired."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an epilogue and that will be the final chapter of this fic!
> 
> Thanks for reading and reviewing!
> 
> I have a tumblr! Send me an ask at http://filthymallards.tumblr.com


	21. Swan Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well - here it is! The epilogue! The final chapter of the fic! It's been hard work for me to write - I have had to research so much and I guarantee I've gotten the dates in here wrong and stuff, but oh well, I did my best with the resources I could obtain!
> 
> Also, sorry if there are grammar and spelling errors in this chapter. I barely checked it at all because I just needed to get this up on, because I've kept everyone waiting long enough! So; here we go!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the media, or know anything about the real life places mentioned in this chapter. They are merely used for entertainment purposes.

The words of the school principal filtered in one ear and out the other. Whatever it was that she was groaning on about, Mabel couldn't be less interested in. She was too busy fiddling with the bracelets on her wrists, taking slow steadying breaths to slow her palpitating heart.

_Maybe I should take the stickers off? Is that too childish? What is everyone going to think of me?_

"…now the class of 2018 is proud to announce this year's valedictorian; Mabel Pines."

Mabel jolted up in her seat when the audience clapped.

_Well. Too late now. Everyone's looking. Keep calm, Mabel. Keep. Calm. You are woman. Woman strong._

"Mabel is an exceptional student within PHS, and has very much made her mark upon the school," the principal said. Mabel felt a slight flush grow in her cheeks. "She has achieved straight A's throughout her four years at PHS, whilst being enrolled in 7 honors classes and 5 AP classes. She has been a prominent member within the drama club, gaining numerous lead roles within school productions, such as Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, and Sandy in Grease. Mabel came first in the state wide amateur fashion show, two years running, as well as gained the Gold Award in the YoungArts fashion show this year, which was held in Miami, Florida." Again the audience clapped for her. It really was a big deal to her – something she'd dreamed of happening, but had assumed would never come true. Come September, she'd be flying all the way across the country and landing in the most fashionable city in the entire country. It really had been a dream come true when she'd received the letter in the mail from the magazine executive – so much so that she'd broken down in tears of joy and excitement.

"Mabel was chosen as one of three students to represent PHS this year on a debate competition to Washington, where the PHS team placed second out of all the California high schools attending, and came fifth overall. She was the president of the French club, Spanish club, Cooking club, Knitting club, GSA, SEA, Art club, and Spirit club, as well as represented the school in the girls volleyball and lacrosse team. Finally, she served as a member of the yearbook staff, was a youth representative, and was the head of the prom committee."

Disco Fever was definitely the best theme Piedmont High School would ever have.

_Ever._

"Mabel will attend the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York City on the Presidential Scholarship, and plans to major in fashion design, and minor in photography and illustration, _whilst_ taking an internship at the Cosmopolitan office based in NYC."

_Well when she says it like that, it really does sound like I have a lot on my plate._

_Maybe Mom was right in telling me to drop a minor._

"Everyone, please join me in giving a warm welcome to Mabel Pines – the class of 2017 valedictorian."

The audience clapped loudly, cheering for her as she jolted into action, standing up and smoothing down her robes. Carefully she adjusted her graduation cap, not wanting to disturb the glitter atop it. Lifting her head proudly, she began to walk towards the podium, her heels clacking lightly against the floor beneath her.

_Don't fall don't fall don't fall._

Once she was safely behind the podium, she beamed a bright smile as the principal took a seat.

_Nailed it._

She spotted Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford among the crowds of seat. Great Uncle Ford nodded at her, acknowledging that he saw her looking, while Grunkle Stan just held up a clenched fist.

She smiled a bit bigger towards them, clenching her hand into a fist back at him.

* * *

_Stay strong, kid,_ she could practically hear him saying to her. _Stay strong._

_"Mabel, it'll…it'll be okay," Grunkle Stan tried, kneeling next to her as she curled up tighter in her sweaters. She was lying on her bed, staring across at the opposite side of the room._

_Dipper's bed and things had been removed for a while now. Her guardians had thought it best, considering she started screaming when she walked in and saw his stuff strewn across the room._

_It was better than crying._

_Or it had been. Now his things were gone, and all she was left with was bitter tears and angry words and a whole bucket load of pain._

_"Nothing can ever be okay again! Don't you get it? Dipper's gone and he's never coming back!" She cried. She felt like Niagara Falls – she'd felt like a gushing pool of tears ever since her brother had vanished inside that…that…that fucking machine._

_"Grunkle Stan, I can't sleep, I can barely eat, and my chest hurts. Why does it hurt?"_

_Stan sighed, sitting next to Mabel on the bed, pulling the sweaters off of her._

_"Mabel…" He sighed, looking around him. She could tell he didn't know what to say to her. "I wish things happened differently. Dipper-" Mabel let out an odd hiccupping noise. Stan cleared his throat, trying again. "He deserved better. Heck, he deserved so much more. But…sometimes…sometimes life throws us a curveball. Sometimes, life throws a ton of lemons at us, and expects us to make grapefruit." She let out another choked noise._

_Of course he'd try to make her laugh. Grunkle Stan would never change._

_Mabel rubbed at her eyes. Underneath them felt red and scratchy from too much rubbing. She hadn't bothered to look in the mirror the last few days. She didn't want to look at the bloated discoloring of her face, anyhow._

_"When I do get any sleep, I keep having this nightmare," she whispered. "Of Dipper. Except,_ I _push him into the portal. I push him in and he just keeps screaming and it's so loud and I can't stop it and I hate it, Grunkle Stan, I hate it."_

_"Mabel, none of this is your fault," Stanford spoke up from the door. In his hand he held a plate of cookies. He sat beside her, holding a cookie out to her. "Even a single bite is better than nothing. We can start small and work our way up."_

_She hesitantly took the cookie from him, giving it a little nibble. The taste would have usually pleased her, but now it just made her feel sick and sad._

_These had been Dipper's favorite._

_The cookie was returned to the plate a heartbeat later, and she turned her back to her relatives, pulling her sweaters over her face._

_Grunkle Stan sighed, and Stanford stood up, taking his weight off of the bed._

_"Your parents will be here soon. They're driving up from Piedmont now. Try to get some rest, okay?"_

_"Stay strong, kid. Things'll…things'll sort themselves out," Grunkle Stan added._

_The pair left the room, and Mabel curled up even tighter under the rainbow of color spread over her, legs tucked up under her._

_Sleep alluded her once more._

* * *

Mabel gently shook her head to dislodge the memory, breathing out slowly as nerves finally began to flutter in her stomach, little butterfly wings that tickled her insides. She across the hall when a waving hand caught her attention – her mother. She was beaming at her with such a wide smile that it was a mystery which her face hadn't cracked yet.

Half of that smile was forced, she knew.

Half of that smile was being put in place for someone else who wouldn't even get the chance to walk on this stage.

Half of that smile was meant for the person who _should_ have been standing in her place.

Her dad looked proud, his chest puffed out, as if he was saying, 'that's my daughter up there.' But his eyes weren't as bright as they could have been, a little too dim, dark underneath.

Because someone important was _missing_ and there was no way he could ignore that fact.

There was no way any of them could.

* * *

_"This is all your fault! We should_ never _have let the kids go back to Gravity Falls! I_ told _you that place gave me bad vibes, but you just wouldn't_ listen _to me because you NEVER listen! Well now my little boy is_ gone _and_ NOTHING CAN BRING HIM BACK!"

_Mabel blocked her ears as she sat with her back to the door in her bedroom. Her mom had never screamed like this before – especially not at her dad. It had been tense ever since they'd come to pick her up from Gravity Falls, mostly it was just her mom crying and her dad taking it all in and digesting it, as if it was all his fault._

_They hadn't believed any of it at first – had outright denied the existence of the supernatural and denied that Dipper was gone, point blank. That was until Great Uncle Ford had come out of the Shack, and introduced himself to her mom and dad (who had then proceeded to stare open mouthed at the man for at_ least _a good ten minutes) – had even shown them the portal room._

_The ride home from Gravity Falls had been silent._

_The fighting had started almost as soon as they got home._

_At first, it had been quiet fights – just whispered, quick,_ harsh _conversations that her parents thought she couldn't hear, but tonight it wasn't. Tonight was different. The wall had finally broken and they were letting lose at each other._

 _The screaming felt_ endless.

 _"Dipper. Dipper come home. Please please_ please _come home," she whispered to herself, banging her fist pathetically against the door._

_She just wanted the fighting to end._

* * *

But things had…settled down, for the most part.

Mabel didn't know how else to describe it, other than _settled_ – even though the whole situation was far from it.

It had taken a long time, but her parents eventually came to understand what had happened – came to realize that there were supernatural things out there that weren't afraid to hurt people – some that _enjoyed_ hurting people. Some that tormented people, drove them crazy, stole their soul, stole their sanity, _stole who they were as people._

But the pain was still there, and she knew it would never go away.

Her parents refused to talk to Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford. They'd refused to let her go back to Gravity Falls (not that she'd wanted to, for the first couple of years. It had been a taboo subject for a very long time), even when she'd begged. But now that she was eighteen – almost nineteen - she would be spending her first summer there in six years.

She was terrified, apprehensive, anxious, yet a little excited, all at once.

Her speech stared down at her, and she lifted her head again, looking over her classmates. She'd grown up with these people. Her friends were grinning up at her from their seats, excitement glowing on their faces.

They weren't Candy and Grenda, but that didn't mean Amanda and Carrie meant any less to her – her best friends since freshman year. Through thick and thin, they had been there, had believed everything she had told them about the supernatural, had allowed her to grieve – hadn't complained when she'd start crying at sleepovers and have to go home.  
They didn't pretend to understand - and maybe that was what made them so different to her other friends, the ones that came and went.

And then she found herself searching for another face in the sea of graduates – one she knew she wouldn't see, yet one she so desperately wished would be there.

Of course, she didn't see it.

Shaking herself, she cleared her throat, looking back at her notes to reset herself.

"Graduates," she began. Her voice shook lightly, then strengthened. "Would you all please stand and join me in thanking Ms. Atkins for all the work she has put in with us over the past four years."

The assembly of students all stood, clapping for their principal who smiled from her seat, before they all returned to their seats, falling silent once more.

"Thank you," she began again, taking a breath before continuing. "Fellow seniors, family, faculty, and friends. Today, I would like to talk to you all about choices. Good choices and bad choices. Choices that make you, and choices that break you. Any choices, and all choices."

Her eyes flickered back down to her speech, before back up to the crowd.  
"I'm not going to pretend. I've made some bad choices in my eighteen years – like the time I ate scratch 'n sniff stickers and had to go to the hospital." There were a few chuckles from the audience, and she felt a little bit more reassured with herself.

"But this choice didn't make me who I am today. It is just one of the many, _many_ silly things that I've done – and will undoubtedly continue to do." Her back straightened up.

"But I've also made some good choices. Choices that consisted of leaving the past behind me. Choices that consisted of me learning from my mistakes. Choices that consisted of me _growing up._ Obviously, I'm still learning that last part." More quiet chuckles from the audience.

"My choices got me to where I am today," she continued. "My choice to live on, and grow, and prosper, are the reason that I stand before you all today, as your Valedictorian. My choice to do better, and be the person someone very special to me knew I could be, are the reason I am going to succeed." A small smiled graced her face. "And I will move on with my life, and away from all of your faces, across to the other side of the country, where I will work as hard as I can to get the life I want."

She lifted her head proudly, smiling as she felt a tear slip down her cheek.

"But I will never forget my time here, with all of my friends – sorry, I mean all of my family."

She could see some of her friends crying where they sat, knowing her speech was coming to an end – knowing their time together as school mates was almost over. Others looked like they were holding back tears, and then others she could tell were bubbling with excitement.

"This time," she said, her voice softening. "This time _right here,_ I will never forget, because it was my choices that got me here today, looking down at you all, and addressing you for the last time as a Class. To the Class of 2017; let's live our lives like we never have before!" She pulled the cap off of her head and threw it up. Her class members cheered excitedly as they stood up and threw their caps off.

Mabel lifted her head, watching the square topped hats fall to the ground as the other graduates all clapped and cheered excitedly, hugging each other and crying and laughing.

One hat in particular stood out - one covered in glitter and sparkles, letters emblazoned across the top of it.

_Dipper Pines._

_Class of 2017._

Her smile grew larger, even though sadness echoed through it.

Her life had barely begun. She had so much to do - so much of the world to see. College loomed in front of her, and then a life she never could have dreamed of pursuing.

And by god, she would _live it_ \- for her brother that never would.

For her brother, who had given up just for the chance that she _could._

For her brother, who had smiled through the pain.

For her brother, the bravest, _stupidest,_ most chivalrous person she knew.

She would live her life, and she would be happy, because she knew now, that life didn't stop when you stop moving.

She rushed down the stairs of the stage and into the arms of her friends, screaming and crying and jumping up and down as her high school life officially came to an end.

Yes.

For Dipper, she would live.

* * *

The word 'color' was unheard of in this place. It was like a muted wonderland – without the wonder, and double the terror. Even suggesting this place had 'land' was stretching it.

The sky was a murky gray, as if it was permanently encased within a smoker's lungs, or a storm that never ceased. Decaying white bones crackled under foot, just an echo of the pain that those who had died here had suffered. Sometimes they snapped in two if they were brittle enough. In a strange, macabre way, it was like music.

What was that song he used to like? Dance something?

Or was it disco something?

For the life of him, he couldn't remember.

It was impossible to step around the bones. Every inch of the ground was littered with them. He didn't know where they came from – they'd covered the landscape from the moment he'd arrived.

If there was any hope of bare ground, it was but a death trap, threatening to suck up and eat the fool that dared to step on it.

He'd learned that the hard way. He still walked with a limp, even though his leg had grown back.

The air was unbreathable, a poisonous miasma that choked those who tried to suck in a breath until they clawed their throats out with their bare hands, until they were but a ball of tears sobbing among the abandoned skeletons.

He'd learned that the hard way, too. Breathing had become a comfort he could scarcely remember.

Time moved differently, here. Days felt like months - months like years, years like centuries.

This place was truly _hell._

"Pine Tree. Hey, Pine Tree! _Pine Tree!_ What are you doing?"

_Definitely hell._

"You're back again. Would you just die already?" Dipper asked, not turning his head.

"Psh, and leave you all alone again? What type of demon would I be if I did that?"

"A live one."

"You can kill me all you want, kid, but I'll just come back again."

Dipper s slowly lifted his head from where he sat cross-legged atop what Bill had dubbed his, 'Cathedra of Carcasses.'

He didn't appreciate the name.

"Bill. Do I need to throw you into the Pit again?" He asked, watching the glowing triangle.

"Definitely not."

"Then shut up."

Bill rolled his eye, hovering next to the eighteen year old. The years had not been kind to him – then again, nothing was kind within _this place._ Every time Dipper looked in the water, all he saw was someone empty staring back. Dark, empty eyes, messy hair, sallow face.

Blank face.

Cold face.

Indifferent face.

A nothing face.

At first, he'd punched and kicked at his reflection, had even _cried_ once or twice, if he remembered correctly.

He hadn't liked the person that stared back at him. He wanted it to _die and go away and leave him alone,_ but of course, it hadn't. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, that face was all _his._

That _nothing_ face.

That _indifferent_ face.

That _cold_ face.

That _blank_ face.

That sallow face, with dark, empty eyes, and messy hair.

But this mute place didn't like fighters. So he'd stopped fighting.

It was easier, that way.

"So it's today?" Bill eventually asked, poking Dipper's arm. At first Dipper ignored him, but Bill kept jabbing him. His eyebrow twitched once, and he smacked the demon's hand away.

"Indeed."

Bill snorted. _"'Indeed,'"_ he repeated in a mocking voice.

"The Pit, Bill, the Pit."

"Okay, okay, _yeesh, kid_ , chill out!" Bill held up his hands in surrender.

"Then shut up. I'm trying to concentrate."

"Okay, okay, I'm shutting."

Bill adjusted his bow tie casually as Dipper picked up a hollowed out skull in front of him, staring intently at the inky black water brimming inside. His mouth twitched with pain as he accidentally touched the water, burning the tip of his finger.

"Hey. Pine Tree."

_"Bill."_

Dipper really wished he could get rid of the demon. He was a constant pain in his side – always bugging him, asking questions, being cryptic, needing punched.

But he _couldn't_ get rid of him, because otherwise he'd try... _something,_ and he couldn't allow that to happen.

Not to mention...there was the - dare he say it - _companionship?_

When he'd first arrived in this place, he'd been all alone. There hadn't been any other soul around.

And the silence had been _maddening._

He remembered wandering – for how long, he didn't know, but he had just _wandered,_ all alone, in a land even his near-omnipotence knew nothing about. In a land where his magic was stupidly strong, but meant _absolutely fucking nothing._

Bill had found him some time later – how much later, he didn't know, but he had found him.

He'd been _sulking,_ of all things. But Dipper understood now, why that was the case. This place was only good for negativity, for anger and depression and isolation and madness.

 _Was_ he mad? Probably. He'd been half way there back home, so it only made sense that he completely lose the plot now.

He and Bill fought constantly, especially upon meeting each other for the first time, again. Fighting to see who could kill the other first, Fighting with vicious intent - because either directly, or indirectly, it was the others fault that they were _stuck_ here. _Heck,_ just _fighting_ for the sake of being able to _fight with someone who else who existed in this shitty, messed up, mother fucking stain of a world._

They'd died, many times each, in those first few centuries, though death really was just a relative term in a place like this. Death would be much nicer.

He was so tired of waking up again.

Dipper glanced at Bill as he adjusted his top hat.

They still hated each other, for sure, but over time, they'd begun to have…more civilized conversations. Sure, they almost always ended with Dipper blasting Bill into oblivion for a few months, but at least they could handle a semblance of amicability, at least for a while.

And though neither he nor the triangular monstrosity would _ever_ admit it to each other, they both knew they... _ugh...needed_ each other, in order to survive forever in this _place._

_Loneliness really takes a toll on the standard of company one keeps._

_"Pine Tree, I'm talking to you,"_ Bill snapped more aggressively, eye pulsing red for a second.

_"Don't make me tell you again, Cipher. Now's not the time."_

His eyes cast back down towards the inky blackness, watching a tremendous amount of caps, all square at the top, thrown towards a bright blue sky.

Oh how he _missed_ blue.

Whilst the colors were beautiful, something wistful to be treasured and remembered, it wasn't what he was interested in.

He was interested in the brown haired girl, with stickers on her face, smiling an oversized grin at one particular hat as it fell back towards the ground.

And for the first time in a long time - for the first time in forever, he smiled.

He smiled in such a way that Bill looked worried.

"What are you smiling about, kid?"

Dipper didn't look back at Bill - the demon really wasn't worth his time - the smile on his face softening as the bushy brown haired figure rushed into the arms of people he would never have the chance to know.

"She hasn't forgotten."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. This has been such a hard thing to write. I can't thank all of you enough for reading and reviewing and just enjoying this story.
> 
> I apologize for any screw ups and inconsistencies with real American High Schools. I am not American. and my school system is EXTREMELY DIFFERENT. Seriously.
> 
> Originally, this chapter was going to be all Mabel, but I had so many reviews shrieking at me about Dipper, and what happened to him, I just had to include him in there somewhere. I was going to make it one of those stories where you just kind of guess what happened, but I hate not knowing, so there you go!
> 
> To the people who are wondering if I will be continuing doing other Gravity Falls related fics; I tend to write about the thing I am obsessed with at the time, so that is a big fat YES. There will be oneshots and shorts from this story (though I refuse to write a reunion oneshot between Mabel and Dipper. To me, that would kind of defeat the purpose of the story), Dipifica stuff (because it's my favorite ship) and I've already posted a few chapters of my fic Abacus (which is BillDip...but probably not the BillDip you're used to reading. Hopefully - I don't know, it's kind of sci-fi.)
> 
> I'm also curious to write up a Fullmetal Alchemist AU, based on Mistrel-Fox's post ( post/116962776030/im-having-way-too-much-fun-with-fma-au-bonus) because I am total FMA trash, and it seems like an interesting AU. I don't think I will actually post it though because I will probably end up hating what I have written.
> 
> Finally, I may also write a Reverse Falls fic, though I don't know where that will go, either. I guess I will just see what happens!
> 
> If you guys have any ideas or stories that you'd like me to write next, feel free to give me some ideas (who knows, I might pick up one of them, and I would love to have a beta next time! ^_^)


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